Pinned but Fluttering Outtakes
by CassandraLowery
Summary: Various Outtakes in different POV's than Bella's throughout Pinned but Fluttering. AU. M for language in Ch 5 Jacob POV only; otherwise, T.
1. PbF Outtake Chapter 23 Part 1

**Outtake from Chapter 23 in Carlisle's POV, Part 1**

**_This outtake, divided into two parts, is entirely in Carlisle's point-of-view, encompassing Bella's arrival at the hospital, her treatment, and the meeting with the wolf pack. This part of the story must be told before the coming events in _Pinned but Fluttering _occur. Thanks for reading, and please enjoy!_**

_**Also, I am not a doctor so am taking wild guesses with the medical information just from watching every season of ER. So please forgive any medical mistakes contained herein. ;)**_

**_Disclaimer__: The _Twilight _Universe belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This story does not intend to infringe upon any copyrighted material and is written for mere enjoyment, not for profit. The remainder of the story belongs to Cassandra Lowery and should not be copied or reproduced without express written consent._**

**Carlisle's POV**

"There's a van pulled up in the ambulance bay," one of the orderlies called.

It was a rather cold January night at my place of work, Forks Community Hospital. Despite the possible emergency in the ambulance bay, the orderly, a nice young man named Derek, and I pulled on jackets before jogging out to the rather dilapidated van parked sideways, the side door just sliding open as we approached. Not that I needed the jacket as Derek did, but appearances were important, especially when working in such close proximity to humans as I did.

Immediately upon the opening of the van door, a pungent stench, almost as repulsive and wretched as that of rotting meat, filled my head. I took a deep breath, grimacing at the scent, then held my breath. Usually my extraordinary sense of smell aided greatly in diagnostics, but when on rare occasions when an odor this acrid and disgusting hit my nose, I took in just enough air to allow for speech, and then refused to breathe further.

The dark-skinned driver of the van had to be no more than eighteen or nineteen, and he glared at me with unveiled loathing. I ignored him, moving instead to the open side door where another man, slightly older than the driver but with the same odd shade of skin, held a small, trembling form in his lap.

I gathered from the long, dark hair draped over his arm that the person he held was a young girl. As I drew up beside him, he, too, scowled at me and seemed to hold his breath, too. But I was far too concerned by our new patient to puzzle over these strange young men and their apparent antipathy toward me.

Still holding my breath, I reached one hand toward the girl's face, cupping her cheek. Her face was completely covered with partially-dried blood from a laceration along her hairline, and one eye was swollen shut. As I touched her, the coolness of her skin concerned me; she was obviously going into shock, if she wasn't already there.

The young man holding her was saturated in her blood, and he, too, was shaking. His face was set in supreme restraint.

I hurried to assure him, "Sir, just hang on, and we'll help her." Tensing, the man started to slide from the van, trying to hand the girl off to me.

"Here, take her. We have to go," he said through his clenched jaw. He tensed further as he moved to give the girl to me. As he did so, I detected further movement inside the van. A petite girl with the same dark skin and wide dark eyes stared at me, the emotion of fear quite obvious in her features which were lit by the outdoor floodlights around the ambulance bay. Apparently she had been the victim of some kind of attack a year or two before; one side of her face was marred by three deep scars from her hairline to her chin, pulling down the corner of one of her expressive eyes and causing her mouth to remain in a permanent frown.

The girl, who looked to be around nineteen or so, reached out toward the tense man holding the girl, attempting to calm him. "Sam, we're doing this for Bella," she whispered soothingly.

_Oh dear Lord! Isabella! _my mind screamed.

I gasped, "Oh my god! This is Bella? There's blood everywhere!" Guilt filled me as my eyes scanned her still-trembling form. Her injuries had been such that I had failed to recognize her, and I hadn't caught her scent because I was holding my breath.

The man called Sam was now absolutely rigid with hatred; his eyes burned into mine with the depth of his emotions.

"As if you can't tell who she is, leech!" he growled at me. "You know her scent; I know you do."

Despite Isabella's obvious physical distress, I had to deal with whom I now knew this man...and probably the driver and the girl, too, to be. Quileutes. No wonder their stench had affected me so strongly.

I was just glad that Derek had sucked inside to bring out a gurney for Isabella so that he or any other human would not overhear our low argument.

"Apparently your stench masks human scent," I snapped, angry with myself that I had been so weak as to hold my breath when I could have helped Isabella that much sooner.

I bent over Isabella, so still and fragile in this hulking man's arms, and gently patted her face with my fingers as I called, "Bella, sweetheart, what happened?" No response. I tried again, patting her cheeks more insistently, "Bella? Bella?"

Still no response.

I gently shook her shoulder as I called her name again, but she did not respond. I was worried about trying the sternal response with her possible injuries, but it needed to be done.

As gently as I could, I pressed my ice-cold knuckle against her sternum; usually patients roused into consciousness when this method was applied.

But Isabella did not respond.

Derek and another orderly drew up behind me with the gurney. I spoke over my shoulder to them, "No response to stimuli and no sternal response to pain."

Derek nodded in understanding, his young face very serious.

"Here, help me transfer her to the gurney," I said coldly, approaching Sam to take her from his arms.

Sam stiffened, holding Isabella's limp form closer to his body. Heat seemed to radiate from him which was a good thing for Isabella; it may be helping to mitigate the shock she was in.

But his delay in giving her into my care could be a matter of life and death for Isabella.

"Give her to me now, dog," I growled in a voice low enough not to reach the ears of the two orderlies. I was angry; I wanted to know who had injured Isabella so seriously. It took great control to insist somewhat calmly, "I have to assess how badly she's injured. Look at her face! There's blood everywhere! What the hell did you do to her?"

Sam's temper flared. "_I_ didn't do anything! _I_ am trying to save her life! Why else would I bring her here, bloodsucker? To you, of all..._people_!"

I glanced over my shoulder at the confused orderlies. "We'll discuss this later. At the eastern end of the boundary beside the lake. I'll send a delegation before dawn; I doubt I'll be able to leave Bella before then." I lowered my voice to a menacing hiss, "And you will tell us exactly what happened, mongrel. How dare one of your kind harm this girl?"

Sam bared his teeth at me in challenge. He stepped nearer to me, his face nearly in mine as he scathingly inquired, "Can you control yourself, leech? You've mentioned her blood more than once tonight-"

The nerve of him, asking about my control when someone from his tribe had attacked Isabella in the first place.

"Bloodlust hasn't been an issue for me for two centuries, and I have _never_ consumed human blood. Satisfied?" I hissed, baring my teeth in return.

Sam nodded reluctantly, and the girl released him. She scooted near to Isabella, then leaned over to kiss the top of her head. "Be safe, Bella Swan," she murmured quietly. Glancing up at me, she smiled tightly, and I sensed her trust. She may be young, but she was wise. I returned her smile grimly, nodding.

I then turned my back on the large Quileute, ignoring the steady growling from the driver as I called over my shoulder, "Get that gurney over here," I directed calmly, my voice contradicting my roiling emotions.

Derek and the other orderly came forward to help with Bella. I could easily have lifted her myself, but one must keep up appearances for the humans. "On my count...one, two, three." We lifted her gently from Sam's arms and onto the gurney.

We immediately moved the gurney toward the wide double doors of the ambulance bay and into the emergency room. The nurses had prepared Trauma Room Two for Isabella, and we quickly wheeled her in. The nurses began gently cutting off her clothing, being careful to not exacerbate her injuries.

Cathie, my favorite nurse to work with, pulled an oxygen mask over Isabella's mouth and nose to help increase her oxygen saturation levels.

Once her clothing was removed, I started examining for the most likely injuries: the rapid bruising on her side indicated the very real possibility of internal bleeding. I was fairly certain that I caught the scent of internal bleeding; blood had a slightly different smell when not exposed to air, such as when people bled externally. I smelled a more potent scent, as if blood were pooling somewhere inside her torso.

With extreme care, I palpated her chest, her abdomen, her sides, and immediately detected abnormal rigidity beneath her rib cage. In a low voice I asked Marcy for the ultrasound machine, and after she applied the gel on Isabella's side, I checked her organs.

I was certain that several ribs were broken, and one of them could have perforated an organ. And sure enough, I detected a liver laceration via ultrasound. A perforation such as this can cause death if not treated immediately as the liver bleeds copiously when lacerated.

I forced away the fear I felt for Isabella's life as I calmly informed the staff of her lacerated liver and broken ribs. Under my direction, Cathie ran a liver function panel while Marcy hung four units of typed-and-crossed blood.

But my usually unflappable voice rose slightly as I completed my commands with an imperious "Now!" Cathie stared at me, shocked by my tone.

I tried smiling apologetically at her, and she shook her head in confusion.

Then Isabella's heart fluttered into an abnormal rhythm. The monitors beeped in warning, then quieted as her heart shifted back into a normal rhythm on its own. I let out a long breath, not realizing that I had held it in while her heart fluttered.

I just hoped that the abnormal rhythm did not indicate issues during the surgery.

"Bella, you stay with me," I told her quietly. I knew that people could often hear us despite their bodies appearing be unconscious. I hope that she did listen...and that she would stay alive. I had lost her mother far too soon; I couldn't lose Isabella as well.

"Carlisle?" Isabella whispered faintly, her eyes not opening.

I took her hand, grateful that we could exchange a few words. "Yes, sweetheart, it's me. Just rest now. I'll take care of you," I assured her softly.

I turned to the ER team. "She's bleeding internally; her liver's been ruptured. Get those units of O-Neg on the rapid infuser, NOW. And add two more units. We have to get her to the OR immediately. She's bleeding out. Let's move, people!" I ordered urgently.

"Carlisle?" Isabella sighed. I gripped her hand, pressing gently. "You'll be all right, Bella. We're taking you to the OR for emergency surgery. We'll repair the liver laceration and make sure you have no other internal injuries." My voice broke slightly on the final word.

This poor girl...and it was my fault that Isabella lay here, broken and bleeding, because I did not insist that she leave La Push and stay with us. Logically I knew that I couldn't have forced her, but the guilt I felt was still unmitigated by my feeble logic.

We started transporting her to the OR speedily, moving her gurney at a quick jog.

Isabella opened her eyes for a moment, managing to focus her uninjured eye on me as she whispered my name again. When she saw the concern on my face, she tried to smile weakly, whispering so faintly that I knew I was the only one of the trauma team to hear her say, "It's okay. It doesn't even hurt."

As she finished speaking, her heart gave one off-kilter beat, then halted. "Stop the gurney!" I ordered, panicked.

"She's flatlined. I'll start compressions. Cathie, keep squeezing in that blood. Marcy, run ahead and get the intubation kit ready. STAT!"

As the team flew into concise action and I hopped onto the gurney, carefully compressing her chest for fear of causing additional trauma due to her broken ribs, I began to pray earnestly for Isabella's fate. My father's Anglican faith had been passed down to me, and, like many humans and very few vampires, I relied on my faith at times of great stress.

We rolled her swiftly into surgery, myself seated atop Isabella's body, doing CPR to force her heart to circulate blood.

Once she was in the OR, I jumped off the gurney while Cathie took over CPR and Marcy placed a mask over her face, squeezing the bag to force air into her lungs. I quickly intubated her as Cathie continued the compressions, attaching her to the ventilator which would breathe for her.

Then I grasped the paddles of the defibrillator to shock her heart back to life. "Clear!" I called, and everyone backed away from her body as the electricity coursed through her heart.

Immediately her heart regained sinus rhythm, and I breathed a sigh of relief and a prayer of thanksgiving.

I left the OR to scrub in preparation for Isabella's surgery as the trauma team left and the OR team prepped her for surgery. After I scrubbed carefully, I backed into the OR, not touching the doors with my now-sterile hands. A surgery nurse tied my mask on me and helped me into the operating gown and gloves, then I approached Isabella's still form, praying earnestly as I chose the scalpel to open her side and repair the liver laceration that was threatening her young life.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Nearly three hours later, I ripped off my gloves and mask as I left the OR; meanwhile, Isabella was wheeled directly into the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) for critical care.

Although it was impossible for my immortal body to actually tire, I had never felt so close to exhaustion in my almost four centuries.

Isabella had arrested twice more on the operating table, and the third time it had taken five minutes of defibrillating her heart, doing compressions between attempts to shock her back into sinus (or normal) rhythm.

I had rarely prayed so much in my entire existence as I had during the past three hours since Isabella had been brought in.

And I still had a major meeting with the Quileutes ahead.

I looked up at the clock. 3:17 A.M. I had another three hours of night before sunrise. Thinking over all I needed to accomplish, I decided to meet with the pack in two hours.

"You look exhausted, Dr. Cullen," remarked Marcy as I made my way back into the ER.

I merely nodded.

"How did Isabella do?" she asked solicitously.

I sighed. "Arrested twice. Took five minutes to get her back the second time. She's being settled in the ICU now. It's touch-and-go."

Marcy sighed, too, patting me on the shoulder as I walked past her. "We're all praying for her, Dr. Cullen," she spoke quietly. Marcy knew of my faith, and we had often discussed theology during the long, often boring night shifts.

"Thank you," I smiled weakly, part of my mind still praying for Isabella.

In the relatively unstable condition she was in, I worried greatly about leaving the hospital, but the meeting with the Quileutes could not be delayed.

I walked slowly back to my office, rubbing the back of my neck tiredly. I had never felt so physically or emotionally drained before, and I didn't like it.

I opened my office door, switched on the light out of habit, then immediately realized that I wasn't alone. I turned toward the familiar scent seated on the black leather sofa against the office wall.

"Alice," I greeted her quietly.

"Carlisle," she returned just as quietly.

Seating myself behind my desk, I looked at my daughter's grim expression. I rubbed my eyes, then raised them to hers again. "What have you seen?" I asked, almost afraid of her response.

"Isabella will remain stable for the next twenty-eight hours, then she suddenly disappears from my view. I can't see her future beyond that." Sadness permeated Alice's voice. She had told me how she looked on Isabella as a friend already, and I hated seeing this friendship so brutally ripped away from my sensitive daughter. Not to mention what this vision meant for Isabella...

I dropped my head into my hands. So Isabella would only survive for just over a day from now.

Alice cleared her voice delicately, then continued, somewhat ascerbic. "Carlisle, I can't see anyone's future in a couple of hours from now. Would you care to explain?"

"We're meeting with the Quileutes at the eastern boundary near the lake," I responded tiredly.

"They're the ones behind Bella's injuries?"

I nodded. "We need to get to the bottom of what happened."

Alice glared at me. "You realize, of course, that I can see nothing at all when the Quileutes are involved."

"I gathered that."

"I hate going into a situation blind," she complained.

"We'll have Edward's and Jasper's gifts to help us," I reminded her, feeling slightly encouraged by this thought.

"Well, we'll have Jasper's, anyway," Alice huffed, annoyed.

"What do you mean?" I asked her, too sharply.

"Edward will have nothing to do with Isabella Swan," she responded. "I see him refusing to leave for the meeting with us in a couple of hours."

I rested my head in my hands. This meeting with the volatile Quileute tribe was going to be difficult enough with Alice's visions blinded, but without Edward's gift of reading their minds?

We were going into this too-dangerous meeting with an unknown number of volatile wolves completely and utterly blind.

_**Part 2 of this Outtake will be published next week. I hope you've enjoyed it! :) **_

_**I'll be updating sometime next weekend; I hate promising a certain day because my writing often slops over into Sunday. **_

_**So let me know what you think, okay? :) Please review! :) **_

_**Love to you all,**_

**_Cassandra :)_ **


	2. PbF Outtake Chapter 23 Part 2

**Pinned but Fluttering Outtake Chapter 23**

**Carlisle's POV Part 2**

**_This is the second part of the Chapter 23 Outtake from _Pinned but Fluttering._ Enjoy!_**

At nearly five in the morning, I parked my car in the garage at home. Alice had left immediately after our chat in my office, and after I had checked on Isabella in the ICU, making certain that she was stable and comfortably settled, I had headed home.

Leaving Isabella behind in the hospital this morning was extraordinarily difficult. I was feeling guilty enough due to her being hospitalized at all, much less seeing her so pale and still, the ventilator forcing air into her lungs, the various tubes and wires monitoring her vitals and draining excess fluids from the site of her surgery.

But this had to be done.

Meeting with the Quileutes was not going to be easy as our truce was tenuous at best; currently it was barely existing-on life support, just as Isabella was.

Exiting the car, I walked reluctantly, almost at human speed, to the back door and into the kitchen of our home. Esme was waiting for me with a welcoming embrace, pressing a kiss to my cheek as she enfolded me in her cool arms. I held onto her for a long moment, burying my face in her fragrant caramel hair, drinking in her comfort.

Esme knew just what I needed before proceeding with this most difficult meeting—first with my family, then with the Quileutes.

Reluctantly I let her go, kissing her forehead as I released her. "Let's meet in the dining room," I suggested quietly, knowing that everyone in the household could hear me.

My arm around Esme's slender waist, I moved slowly to the dining room, seating myself at the head of the table, Esme sitting at my side. She took my had in hers as we waited for the rest of the family to file into our designated meeting room.

Alice and Jasper entered first, their sensitive faces serious, Jasper's expression approaching grim determination. Emmett and Rosalie followed them, looking somewhat confused at being called for a family meeting at such an odd hour. I looked to Alice, wondering if she had told them what was coming, and she shook her head minutely, confirming that she had not spoken to the family since arriving home. I'm sure that she had confided in Jasper, but it seemed that she had shared her vision and the occurrences of the night with no one else.

Edward ambled in last, his face a strange mixture of annoyance and bemusement. Refusing to sit at the foot of the table with Rosalie and Emmett on one side and Jasper and Alice on the other, he chose to stand, leaning coolly against the pale wainscoting of the dining room wall. His eyes kept darting to Alice who smiled back at him smugly. I felt my lips twitch slightly in amusement; she was obviously blocking her thoughts from him; I was surprised that he hadn't picked up on my thoughts, but I, too, had become adept at concealing my thoughts from his gift of mind-reading.

His dark amber eyes shot to me now, narrowing as he realized that I, too, had diverted my thoughts in such a way as to not reveal them.

It was wonderfully helpful yet more than slightly invasive living with three such talented vampires. With Alice's gift of future visions, Jasper's of reading and manipulating emotions, and Edward's of mind-reading, very few secrets remained among our family members.

But I needed to tell my family what had happened tonight and how we needed to meet with the Quileute pack shortly.

But how to find the right words?

Jasper also narrowed his eyes as he spoke quietly, "Carlisle, you need to tell everyone what happened. Don't concern yourself with trying to be kind and diplomatic; the time for diplomacy is past."

Emmett looked beyond frustrated already. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded, looking from Jasper to me to Alice, whose eyes were sparkling with tears that our kind was unable to shed. Jasper pulled her onto his lap, comforting her.

I took a deep breath, then let it out with an unbecoming rush. "Isabella Swan was brought into the ER tonight with life-threatening injuries."

I heard Esme's quick intake of breath, then felt her hand tighten around mine. "Oh, no—that poor girl! What happened to her?" she asked in a whisper.

Rosalie's eyes were huge while Emmett remained perfectly, dangerously still. Edward's eyes had shot to mine, then down to the floor, hiding his expression.

I continued, speaking much more slowly than usual, choosing my words deliberately. "The leader of the Quileute pack brought her to the ER. Isabella had been severely beaten, presumably by a member of the pack."

The collective intake of angry breaths around the table told me all I needed to know.

"We are to meet with the Quileute pack in twenty minutes near the lake on the eastern boundary."

Jasper nodded sagely. "What's the plan?" he asked, ever practical.

"That's what we need to discuss," I said.

Emmett leaned forward. "So let's go!" he commanded. "They've broken the treaty. Let's teach them a lesson!"

I shook my head. "It's not that simple, I'm afraid."

Jasper nodded. "One major issue that we've discovered is that Alice cannot 'see' the Quileutes. We're not certain why, but she can see nothing of this meeting; she only knows that she sees us coming home around seven this morning."

"All of us?" Edward asked tersely.

"All of us who attend the meeting," Alice said tersely, glaring at Edward, pain obvious in her eyes.

"We need to make a good show," Jasper continued as if ignoring Edward's and Alice's exchange. "Power is the main way of communicating with them. It's of the utmost importance in dealing with the Quileutes; if we gain their respect, gaining their trust will be easier." He laughed humorlessly, "Or at least, getting them to listen impartially will be simpler. I doubt they'll ever _trust_ us."

"Let me do the talking, please," I insisted, noting Jasper shaking his head in disagreement. I turned to him, "Yes?" I inquired coolly.

"Carlisle, your emotions are the most erratic here because of your feelings toward Isabella, with the possible exception of Edward's. Are you quite sure that you can maintain control?"

I considered his point for a moment, examining my feelings and attitudes much the way I do when preparing myself for confession.

"I believe that I can be impartial," I stated after a pause. "Of course, Alice can't see who would be the best choice as spokesperson. Do you trust me to lead this discussion fairly?"

I tried to conceal my flash of anger at Jasper's apparent distrust, but he narrowed his eyes at me, letting me know wordlessly that he was aware of my emotions.

Jasper and I discussed a few tactics, with Emmett and Alice adding a few points.

"All right, let's be ready to leave in five minutes," I said, preparing to rise from the table.

"Just a moment," interjected Edward who had remained silent and apparently detached throughout the discussion.

All eyes turned to him, but his eyes were trained on me. "Carlisle, I don't feel that we should be inserting ourselves into this matter at this time...or at any time," Edward stated without emotion.

Thanks to Alice's warning in my office, I had been prepared for Edward's objections. "And why is that, Edward?" I asked patiently, hoping all the while that whatever we said would change Alice's vision so that we had Edward's invaluable help at our side when we confronted the Quileutes.

Ignoring everyone's annoyed and increasingly angry glares, Edward answered me quietly but firmly. "Who is Isabella Swan, that we should intervene in tribal issues? She was adopted by a tribal family and CPS is involved in her case. Why should we endanger the treaty over a mere human girl?" The last sentence was spoken in a scathing tone that I didn't understand.

"We are intervening for several reasons, Edward," I replied quietly. "First, under the treaty, the wolves are forbidden, as are we, from endangering a human life. Isabella was severely beaten—so badly that she required emergency surgery to repair her lacerated liver and she flatlined three times; the last time we worked for over five minutes to get her back. Second, I have known Isabella since she was eight years old, and I have become extraordinarily fond of her over the years. She was an unusually loving and loyal child, and she has suffered greatly since the deaths of both parents within two years, then the death of her new mother two years after that.

"The Quileutes, especially Billy Black, have blamed Isabella for the death of Sarah Black, and he has been abusing her for years, according to Jane Fairfield. Not sexually, thank God, but physically and mentally. I won't give you all the details now, but suffice it to say that Isabella has endured more pain and suffering in her short seventeen years than most humans experience their entire lifetimes.

"Isabella deserves our loyalty and our help, Edward." My voice became slightly acerbic as I continued, "I do not understand the point you are attempting to make against our assistance."

Edward's face hardened into a tight mask I had never witnessed in him before. "I don't think it's worth endangering our family and a seventy-year-old treaty for a human girl who, though she may have suffered, really has nothing to do with us."

I was surprised when Esme rose to her feet. It was no secret that Edward was her favorite son; they possessed a connection that I didn't fully understand, but they were able to influence one another very powerfully.

"Edward, whether you believe it or not, this poor girl has been through enough, and as Carlisle has caught the Quileutes endangering her life, it's our responsibility to step forward to defend the weak and the helpless. That girl is fighting for her life as we speak, so we _are_ going to help her. And we need you to do so. We can't confront the wolves without your gift; you would be endangering us far more by refusing to help than Isabella could ever do. So I strongly encourage you to come and to lend us your whole-hearted support."

Edward's eyes were huge, and I noticed a strange look pass from Esme to Edward and back again. Then Edward lowered his eyes to his feet again as he gave a curt nod of acquiescence.

I glanced at Alice, and she nodded at me, smiling. Apparently her vision had cleared, and Edward was now coming with us.

God knew that we would need the assistance.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

A few moments later, we approached the eastern boundary of the Quileutes near the edge of the lake. The disgusting odor I had detected when taking Isabella from the van struck me with incredible force as we reached the border, and I noticed the rest of my family wrinkling their noses in disgust as we came to a stop at the water's edge.

I stepped forward, Emmett on my right and Jasper on my left, with Alice and Rosalie beside their mates, Edward on the far flank beside Alice and Esme next to Rosalie.

The odor of spoiled meat continued to assault our senses as Sam stepped forward to meet us. He was the only member of the pack I had met since arriving two years earlier. As was required by the treaty, he had sent a message each time another Quileute had transformed to join the pack; I knew that there were eight wolves now in La Push. When I had met Sam when we first arrived, he was the only one who had transformed; the tribal leaders, led by Billy Black, had asked us to meet with them as a result of Sam's transformation.

The Quileutes believed that our constant presence in Forks had re-triggered the wolf gene, thus causing the transformations of their young ones into wolves. Because of this belief, our presence was a constant thorn in their side, but we had no proof that our living near the tribe caused their transformations. Despite our disagreement on this and other issues and through painfully long negotiations that had resulted in great bitterness between the Quileutes and the Cullens, the original treaty of the late 1930s had been amended to include several new points, including the notification clause and a pledge on both sides to harm no humans.

It was this pledge that had been broken by the Quileutes and needed to be addressed.

Sam appeared before us in his human form, but the remainder of the pack retained their wolf forms, lined up behind him in a tightly-disciplined formation, their eyes alert and ready. Apparently they didn't trust us and were prepared to fight us. A few of them seemed quite eager to do battle, in fact.

Despite the anger roiling deep in my stomach as I thought of first seeing Isabella last night, broken and bleeding in Sam's arms, the last thing I wanted from this meeting was violence.

"Sam," I greeted him coolly.

The leader of the wolf pack merely nodded in response, his poker face firmly in place. His eyes searched my equally-impassive expression, then he asked in a low, urgent voice, "How's Bella?"

My voice was low but rough with feeling as I replied, "She needed emergency surgery to repair her liver which was lacerated by a broken rib—it appears that someone kicked her violently. Then she went into cardiac arrest on the way into surgery, then twice more on the table. The last time it took us five minutes of shocking her heart and doing CPR before she came back to us."

Sam's poker face broke at this news; he continued to meet my eyes, but shame flushed his face. A red-brown wolf behind him whined piteously, breaking the wolves' formation as he began to pace behind Sam anxiously.

I continued relentlessly, "It's touch-and-go with her at present. She's recovering from surgery in the ICU; she is in extremely critical condition. Isabella is still on a ventilator, and we're monitoring her carefully. Because she was down for more than two minutes the last time she arrested, we have to consider the possibility of brain damage. We'll run some tests later this morning to see if there's detectable damage, but we won't know the full extent until she awakens."

"When will that be?" Sam asked tersely, sending a warning glare over his shoulder at the reddish wolf who stopped pacing and resumed his place in the formation of otherwise disciplined wolves.

"We don't know. It could be today; it could be never," I answered shortly.

"The worst case scenario?"

"Death, obviously," I replied roughly. "After that, a permanently vegetative state."

Sam paled noticeably, and the red wolf growled softly. "What is the chance of her dying?" Sam asked, his voice trembling slightly.

I frowned. "I can't give you percentages. But Isabella is extremely critical. I don't want to be away from her longer than necessary."

He nodded in acknowledgment. "Very well. Why did you want to meet?"

Looking at him unflinchingly, I asked, "Tell me what happened to Isabella."

Sam glared. "That is not your business, vampire."

"It is when I am Isabella's primary physician, and I have a responsibility as her physician to report her injuries to the authorities."

"We are a sovereign nation, not under the jurisdiction of your police," Sam stated coolly. "We will deal with any possible legal issues."

"I don't think you understand," I asserted. "I have known Isabella since her mother's illness, and she is already under the guidance of Child Protective Services. I will be contacting their office later this morning, and Mrs. Jane Fairfield, who has been assigned Isabella's case, has assured me that she has already built a convincing case of abuse against the Blacks. Therefore, I need to know what happened to her...from you."

The red-brown wolf broke formation again, growling at me with a menacing glare.

"Jacob!" hissed Sam. "Not now."

My eyes narrowed as I took in the reddish wolf, the largest of all of the impressive, horse-sized animals. "Ah, Jacob. Are you responsible for Isabella's injuries?" I asked, glaring in turn. I had a strong suspicion that he was at fault somehow. His unusual reactions could result from caring for Isabella, but there seemed to be a defensiveness in his eyes that I didn't think boded well.

Sam glared at the wolf, who slunk back to his place in the formation, then Sam turned back to me. "Very well. We were at the beach last night, and Isabella fell against some rocks. We brought her to the hospital right away when we saw that the clinic here was closed."

Edward and Jasper both reacted to Sam's weak explanation; by the looks they threw me, I understood that I was quite right in not believing Sam's poor excuse for Isabella's severe injuries.

"How about the truth?" I asked, raising my eyebrow in challenge.

"That was the truth," Sam claimed, but the tightness in his eyes belied his words.

"First of all, we have ways of knowing when we are being lied to. Secondly, Isabella's injuries are such that it was quite clear that she was severely beaten. So the truth, please."

To my surprise, Edward spoke up. "Jacob attacked her. He was drunk, but really that's no excuse. He tried to have her sexually, and when she refused him, he attempted to rape her, beating her when she rejected him. She called for help, and Sam arrived before Jacob could harm her further," my youngest son stated, his voice trembling with emotion.

I glanced at him, surprised to see Edward shaking with anger, his hands fisted at his sides, his eyes burning with hatred as he stared down the reddish wolf. It was unlike Edward to reveal his gift, especially in a potentially-dangerous situation such as this one. I would have preferred keeping the various gifts in our family from the Quileutes, but Edward had now removed that element of surprise which placed us at a slight disadvantage.

Sam stepped back, shocked. "How did he...? Wait...a mind-reader?" he gasped.

I nodded. "Several members of our family are gifted," I stated coolly, keeping my statement truthful but purposefully vague.

The reddish wolf, whom I assumed to be Jacob, broke from formation for the third time, approaching Edward and growling in a threatening manner as Edward lowered himself into a crouch, growling in response.

Immediately my family all crouched, preparing to defend Edward and ourselves as the wolves as a whole joined Jacob, growling and readying themselves to spring at us.

"Stop!" both Sam and I ordered our respective groups.

"Edward, that's enough," I hissed as Sam pointedly ordered Jacob and the rest of the wolves back into formation.

My family and the rest of the pack resumed their previous neutral positions, jaws tight and ready to pick up the fight again at a moment's notice.

The red-brown wolf glared at Edward, then at myself, spun around, then raced into the cover of trees. A moment later he reappeared in his human form, wearing a pair of battered denim cut-off shorts. Jacob took his place behind Sam again, his arms folded across his chest as he and Sam exchanged glares.

"You can't prove anything," Jacob said to me smugly. "The word of a mind-reading leech won't be admissible in court. I did nothing to Isabella. Nothing."

"You will find that Mrs. Fairfield has been documenting the abuse in your household, including statements by myself when Isabella last visited me in the ER. And I plan to apply for legal guardianship of Isabella as soon as possible," I stated.

The quick intakes of breath among my family members reminded me that I had not yet discussed this important issue with them, but I knew that it was the right thing to do.

"Over my dead body!" Jacob growled.

Emmett grinned at him. "That can be arranged," he replied cheekily; I placed my hand on Emmett's arm to quiet him.

As the meeting proceeded, I had grown more anxious over leaving Isabella without my care for this length of time. It was time for this meeting to be over so I could return to her.

"Well, I believe that's everything," I spoke firmly. "I need to return to the hospital to see to Isabella's needs."

"This is soooo not over!" Jacob stated, his entire body shaking.

"It is for now," I asserted to him, then turned to Sam. "I'll be at the hospital if you need me for anything."

My family turned our backs on the wolf pack and ghosted away from the boundary, ignoring the growls that followed us.

But as we sped back to our home, I caught Edward's eye and was shocked by his expression of sheer agony.

**_I hope that you all have enjoyed this outtake from Carlise's point-of-view. We'll be returning to Bella's POV as we pick back up with _Pinned but Fluttering _in Chapter 25 in the original story thread. _**

_**Thank you for reading, and please do review! I appreciate hearing from you!**_

_**Love,**_

_**Cassandra :)**_


	3. PbF Outtake Chapter 28 EPOV

**_Pinned but Fluttering _Outtake Following Chapter 28 **

**Edward's POV**

I slammed the front door behind me in utter frustration, ignoring the crashing of the small original Ansel Adams photo to the tiled foyer of our home, the tinkling of broken glass one more irritant to my already over-taxed mind.

Crossing the side yard at a rapid human pace in case Isabella could see me, an exercise in self-control that only worsened my already-strained temper, I threw open the garage door, nearly tearing the large door off its track, and flung myself into one of my few indulgences: my silver Aston-Martin Vanquish. The engine roared satisfactorily to life at my merest touch, and I sped from the garage, tires squealing against the concrete in front of the garage before finding purchase on the three-mile dirt-and-gravel driveway which led to welcome and quite necessary freedom.

I refused to allow myself to consider the real reason behind my childish tantrum and hasty exit. I refused to let myself view my actions today as _running away. _I was no coward, after all.

Or was I? After all, this wasn't the first time I had fled her presence...

I'm not sure how long or how far I drove as my thoughts remained out of my control, focusing against my will on a pair of beautiful, bemused brown eyes. When at last I became aware of my surroundings, I found myself driving down the mountain range into the flats that led to Spokane in the eastern portion of the state; I knew that I must have been driving mindlessly for several hours. Fortunately, the day was cloudy and gray, and I quickly located a small park along the outskirts of the city. Surrounded by scrubby forest, this place wasn't the ideal spot for a run. But I had been stationary for far too long, and I needed to move. _Now. Fast. _

Locking the door of the Vanquish behind me, I jogged at a sedate human pace across the flat green lawns of the park and into the line of trees at the far side. The park was only sparsely populated this day even though it was a Saturday. As soon as I was out of human sight, I was running with a speed and energy that surprised even me. I didn't know where I was going, and I didn't know how long I'd be running. But the repetitious motion of the running brought me a the merest beginnings of peace...a peace I hadn't felt since first catching the irresistible scent of one Isabella Swan.

My demon.

My angel.

During the drive, I had not allowed my mind to think about her. But for all my decades of careful self-control of body and mind, she had somehow become the focus of my every thought. I knew, without a doubt, that this situation would have to stop. Or change somehow.

I could not think about her.

I could not allow her into my world.

My world was simply too dangerous for such a delicate girl.

I had to protect her. Somehow. Someway.

I had to protect her...from myself.

As the miles disappeared beneath my feet, I thought back to the television program that had startled me and prompted my dramatic exit. To see splayed across the widescreen the elements of my own human era, the halcyon days before the horrors of The Great War (the war which was later named World War I after another global war began in the 30s and 40s), gripped the earth, was unnerving to say the least. The clothing, the manners, the cadence of speech, even the gentility of that time was all too familiar to me.

I could not believe that Alice had exposed Bella to my own human time. It was dangerous...and unspeakably reckless. And worse, my sister had done it on purpose, and I was not sure that I would be forgiving her any time soon...

I suppose that my reaction was a bit much, but it was Alice's smug grin of satisfaction that sent me "over the top"-another phrase from the foxholes of The Great War.

I sighed as I ran, knowing that I'd have to apologize to Esme and Alice when I got home.

_That is, if I ever went home..._

As usually happened in this particular damp location in the US, it began to rain, slowly at first, then in an increasingly powerful downpour. Despite Spokane's overall drier weather than the Olympic Peninsula where Forks was located, high winds whipped my wet clothing against me as I ran and raindrops struck my eyes, peppered my face, and soaked my hair.

But I couldn't stop running.

If I continued, I would end up running all the way back to the Olympic Peninsula and then would have to return to fetch the Vanquish...

_Shit._ Usually I didn't allow myself to use foul language, first because it offended me that most people didn't take the time to choose the best word for a particular situation; they lazily resorted to four-letter words in a decided lack of creativity. Second, such words offended Esme, and the last thing I wanted to do was to give my mother pain.

But the agony within me wouldn't allow me to stop running—but whether I was running away from Isabella or toward her, I did not know. But those brown eyes, swimming with deep emotions and fragile strength, wouldn't leave my mind's eye for more than a moment, and only then when I forced them away.

But they never stayed away long, those incredible eyes.

I remembered the first time that they were directed at me. I had slipped into English class, futilely wishing that I wouldn't be forced to discuss _Macbeth_ in an inane high school setting for the eighteenth time in my long existence. Alice and I had entered the classroom as we always did: holding our breath against the powerful mixture of scents that automatically filled our mouths with venom and scorched our throats; there were times that we held our breaths throughout an entire period if the scents were particularly overwhelming. We never thought about it anymore; it was just what we had to do to blend into the boring-as-hell high school scene that we were forced to participate in so that we could stay longer in a particular place. Because we all enjoyed the lack of sunshine in this area of the world, we had started here as high school students so that we could remain here for the longest time possible.

With the natural cloudiness and rain, our family could almost be normal here; we could be outside most days, only the very rare sunshiny days forcing us to remain trapped indoors.

Although there were days in which we held our breaths for the entire class periods on particularly warm and humid days when the humans' scents swirled too temptingly around us, we tried to inure ourselves to the scorching scents as safely as possible.

Unfortunately, that day was one on which we were carefully breathing.

The new girl, who had been the common topic of thoughts among the males of the school this morning as they passed her in the hallway with curious glances she had not returned, had been walking away from me toward Mr. Mason's desk; all I could see of her was her long mane of dark, wavy hair and a petite, delicately-formed body. She seemed too thin, too frail, and I couldn't help the concern for her that filled me. Was she anorexic? Ill? Cancer, perhaps?

My two stints in medical school haunted me as I pondered possible reasons for her obvious fragility.

I had tossed an annoyed look at my sister before noting her tightly-controlled mood, as if she were keeping herself from bouncing up and down in her seat like a rubber ball. It didn't help that she was humming the inane tune to "It's a Small World" under her breath, her mind focused on the ridiculous lyrics as she smirked slightly, annoying me more than usual.

That was all I needed on a morning like this: an inanely stupid Disney song stuck in my head...

If I had been capable of a headache, I'm sure that my head would have been splitting into two halves by now. I growled, annoyed, at a level which only Alice could hear; I ignored her soft chuckle at my peevishness.

Finishing her conversation, the girl began working her way back up the aisle...toward me. She stumbled clumsily over a backpack in her path, almost landing in the lap of a blonde boy I think was called Newton or Newby...something like that. Whatever his name, his thoughts were frankly appraising and admiring; for some reason, his thoughts of Isabella Swan—for I had heard them discuss her name when she was at the front of the room—annoyed me to no end. I clenched my teeth as I sought control of my rising temper.

Then her scent hit me—hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks—searing my throat with nearly unendurable pain while my mouth nearly overflowed with venom. I felt a low growl—too faint for human hearing, fortunately—rumble deep in my chest. I gripped my desk, barely able to keep myself from crushing the fragile particle board and laminated vinyl that made up the sorry excuses for desks in this backwards school.

Her scent was like nothing I had ever experienced: it was mouthwatering in its magnetic pull of fruity and floral scents: fresh peaches I remembered eating right from the tree as a boy, their juices running, sticky and sweet, down my chin, plus the more subtle scents of the delicate bouquet of freesias, the herbal tang of sweet lavender, the persistently sweet fragrance of strawberries on a warm summer's day.

As soon as her scent hit me, I was beyond thought; I could only navigate my mind by sheer instinct.

And only the fact that my instincts were mixed kept me seated behind that ridiculous desk with the faintest veneer of normalcy masking the turmoil roiling in my mind and body.

While all this passed through me in the merest instant, she remained half-splayed over Newton's desk, the twitters of the class causing her pale, heart-shaped face to blush scarlet.

As more venom poured into my mouth and my throat felt like a nuclear war zone, a strange emotion came over me, one that I had never experienced before: I wanted her, and I resented her proximity to Newton. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and flee with her...off to the woods where I could take her, savor her, drain her, and enjoy every last drop of her.

She was mine, damn it.

And no one was going to take her from me.

_I fucking owned her. _

Then her eyes met mine—huge brown eyes that somehow calmed me, brought down my inner frenzy a notch...enough that logic resurfaced for a split-second, and I immediately held my breath to avoid breathing in her scent. Despite stopping my breathing, her fragrance kept swirling through me, awakening all my hunting instincts.

In that brief moment as I struggled for control, I also heard my sister's thoughts.

And I wasn't the only one fighting my instincts.

Alice's thoughts also turned to the new girl, and she was imagining sinking her teeth into that slender throat, swallowing the pure nectar slowly to savor every drop, and...

"Shit, Alice, get a grip! Not helping!" I hissed in a voice below human hearing.

My sister shook her head as if waking from a dream, pulling her mind out of her far-too-vivid imaginings.

_God, I hoped that those images I had viewed through Alice's thoughts were only her imagination working overtime and not a vision of the immediate future. And how had my sister missed seeing her own reaction to the girl? Alice, with her gift of predicting the future, should have been able to foresee her thirst-driven reaction to this tiny slip of a girl, this Isabella Swan, and take evasive action...for both of us. _

_ Why the hell hadn't she done so? _

Her visagebright pink with delectable blood rushing to the surface of her almost translucent skin, the girl stumbled up the aisle and turned to seat herself. I pulled in my restraint as best I could, but I was quite certain that my eyes were pitch black — now matching Alice's — although we had entered the room with our usual well-fed golden eye color; we knew better than to attend this smorgasbord of hormonal teenagers without being as prepared as possible.

And despite holding my breath, I knew that my eyes glittered with the dangerous desires I possessed toward this unassuming temptress... 

When her eyes met mine, she cringed away from me, obviously frightened. Her heart, already beating quickly compared to the rest of the class, took off, fluttering like a butterfly's wings when pinned, alive and wriggling, to an insect display. The delectable sound brought a rush of fresh venom into my mouth, and I swallowed, hearing Alice also swallowing her venom at almost the exact moment.

While I saw the unavoidable fear in the girl's wide brown eyes, I also saw something else — something beyond the usual attraction and fascination usual in human females. I couldn't name it, but it made my control slip slightly. Somehow, I found myself smirking at her.

Her eyes widened, her face paled to a deathly white, and she swayed on her feet as if she were lightheaded. My smile disappeared, and immediately I felt concern for this fragile butterfly of a girl as her heart fluttered more rapidly.

Only the teacher stating her name recalled her, and she sank down into her chair, twisting with an odd grace as she seated herself directly in front of me.

I couldn't help it; I felt mesmerized by this quaking girl sitting only inches in front of me. My eyes couldn't leave her as I tracked her every move, her every breath.

Alice wasn't helping. She was smirking at me now, her mind filled with the old 80s song by the Police, "Every Breath You Take." Her grin widened as she noticed my fists clench in frustration, and as much as I tried to shut my sister out, the words kept coming, swirling in my head:

_Every breath you take_

_ Every move you make_

_ Every vow you break_

_ Every claim you stake_

_ I'll be watching you._

My sister was going to die...if she weren't immortal (and if we weren't sitting in a classroom with thirty witnesses), I could cheerfully remove her head from her petite shoulders. _NOW_.

I noticed the girl — this Isabella — stealing glances sideways at another girl...Angela, I think her name is. Whoever she was, she peered over her shoulder at me a few times, then she looked back at Isabella and shrug, as if I were a major mystery.

But the longer the four of us sat there, the teacher's lecture on _Macbeth_ being ignored by Alice, Angela, Isabella, and myself, we were separated from the rest of the class by this strange vortex of emotions: fear, anticipation, and, from Alice and myself, a twisted desire that was a mixture of thirst and something else.

But as we four sat there, tense and nearly unmoving, Isabella's heart rate ratcheted upward as I watched a beautiful blush spread across her face and down her neck through Angela's mind as she peeked at her friend. Although I refused to breathe, Isabella's scent continued to permeate my senses, like a strong memory continuing to wield her power over me. The girl began to perspire, and it was as if I could smell it, even without breathing.

My mouth filled with venom again and again, its flow constant. All I could do was keep swallowing it, swallowing it, over and over. A strange tension filled me, and although I still refused my body the sensory input of taking a breath, I felt an ever-growing desire to sink my teeth into Isabella's slender throat, her blushing skin throbbing with each rapid heartbeat, fragrant as the most delicate rose.

I leaned forward toward her, then felt Alice's hand on my arm, pulling me back into my seat, a movement that occurred behind both Isabella's and Angela's backs, so they couldn't see my sister restraining me. Part of me wanted to throw Alice against the wall, grasp Isabella in my arms, break her dainty, blush-rose skin, and sate myself with her fragrant warmth until she was drained dry...until I had savored every last drop of her.

Barely restrained, I glared at my sister who shook her head in silent warning. In a flash, I was on my feet and then forced myself to slow to a near-human pace as I left the classroom.

I shut out my sister's thoughts then...and all thoughts, not caring that I had made a scene, barely aware that Mr. Mason was calling after me. I moved quickly toward the parking lot, then, deciding I needed the immediate relief of rapid movement, turned on my heel, striding at a rapid human pace toward the tree line that surrounded the school grounds. Once I reached the safety and shelter of the trees, I was running, running.

Just like I am now.

Would I ever stop running from Isabella Swan?

_**Thanks for being patient with me. I was away all weekend with my family (at Disneyland) and had no time to write. At least I got this chapter up within 24 hours of my usual time!**_

**_The next chapter will return to _Pinned but Fluttering _and continue the story there with Chapter 30 and the Cullens' chat with Bella. _**

_**Thanks for reading and reviewing; I truly appreciate hearing from each of you; you're the BEST! :) **_

_**Much love to you all,**_

_**Cassandra :) **_


	4. PbF Outtake Ch 37 CPOV

**Outtake from Chapter 37**

**Carlisle's POV**

4:17 PM.

Exactly when Alice had predicted the disappearance of our futures.

We were under attack, and we knew our enemy.

But although our species were created as deadly enemies, thus far our interactions with the Quileutes had been tense but ended without violence.

I hoped that this confrontation would end in the same manner.

However, I had a bad feeling about this situation, one I couldn't dismiss lightly.

The fact that our home was apparently surrounded by shape-shifters strong enough to harm us was serious business. Members of our family could be torn apart or destroyed...not to mention the extremely dangerous position of our fragile human daughter.

I looked at Isabella, concerned, as the faint color leached from her face. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to catch her breath. I was concerned how she would handle this new situation...and the repercussions that were likely forthcoming.

I felt a grave sense of unease as I turned to my quietest son, the strategic one.

"Jasper?" I questioned solemnly as he straightened out of the crouch that we had all assumed at Alice's cry.

My concern was reflected in the alert and tense faces of my family, and I noted the frequent glances in Isabella's direction (from everyone except Rosalie) as we considered the very real danger to her in particular.

Above all else, we had to keep Isabella safe...and preferably calm. She has been through so much, and severe stress could send her delicate body into a downward spiral.

"I think it's the wolf pack," Edward murmured too low for Isabella's human hearing as his thoughts agreed with mine regarding the reason for the disappearance of Alice's vision. He continued bitterly, "It would make sense, with Jacob's obvious desire for revenge and Sam's apparent inability to control the pack."

"I think you're right," agreed Alice quietly. "My visions seem to vanish when they're involved...which will be a major hindrance in dealing with them. We'll be going in blind."

Emmett huffed. "True, but at least we're not going in deaf," he nodded toward Edward. "No matter what, we can totally take those mutts."

I shook my head at my confident son. "I don't want this meeting to devolve into violence," I warned.

Rosalie and Emmett began to object, but I held up my hand, silencing them. "If this situation becomes a battle, it's going to be difficult to protect Isabella; she could get hurt all too easily."

Edward and Alice quickly nodded their agreement, and I couldn't help but notice Edward's expression.

I had never seen my son show fear. _Ever._

Always the epitome of confidence, Edward.

But he was truly afraid now...afraid for Isabella's health and safety...and survival.

_As was I. _

I glanced over my shoulder; Isabella was watching us intently, her brows puckered into a frown. We shouldn't shut her out of our plans; after all, this situation centered around her.

Jasper was staring at Edward, obviously picking up his fear, and with a glance at me, also noted my guilt at keeping Isabella out of the conversation.

"How many voices are you picking up?" Jasper asked Edward, speaking loudly enough that Isabella could hear. She was now sitting up in bed, her eyes flitting to each member of our family as they spoke. I saw very little fear in her expression; instead, a fierce determination sparkled in her eyes.

Despite her human status, Isabella truly was one of us in spirit, if not in body.

_She was a Cullen, through and through. _

Most human girls would have been a fearful, crying, clinging mess in knowing that they were a target of a wolf pack. But Isabella sat quietly, absorbing the conversation, taking everything in.

_And I was proud of her. _

Edward frowned as he replied to Jasper's question. "It's difficult to tell how many there are; it seems that the Quileute shape shifters communicate telepathically while in their wolf forms. Their minds are not truly independent in that form; their thoughts almost meld into a single collective thinking process. It's almost impossible to separate the thoughts of individuals from the group as a whole." He paused, listening to the pack, then added, "But I'd say at least eight of them, perhaps more."

Rosalie cursed under her breath, then addressed Jasper, demanding, "What's the best plan?"

As always, Emmett's first thoughts were of violence. "Kill 'em! We can totally take these furry-assed dogs!" Unlike the rest of the family who had straightened out of their crouches, Emmett had retained his defensive position, his eyes ever on the alert.

"Wait," I said, addressing our three fighters especially. "We need to plan our approach to this situation with the utmost care. We must keep this confrontation from becoming violent, or lives could be lost on both sides."

Isabella's quiet gasp drew the immediate attention of every family member. Her eyes were wide with panic as they flickered to each member of my family as if she were thinking of how much she valued and feared losing each one.

I glanced at Edward, unsurprised to see his eyes resting on Isabella with love, longing, and pride. She looked back at him, her eyes agonized with fear...fear for us. Her heart quickened, the beat irregular, and I ghosted to her side as her eyes brimmed with tears.

I needed to calm her; this kind of stress was exactly what we needed to avoid. Despite her strength of mind, Isabella's body was extremely delicate as she recovered slowly from the damage Jacob had inflicted.

Taking her wrist in my fingers, more to quiet her panic than to measure her pulse which was unnecessary, my eyes met hers, and I kept my voice level, hoping to relieve some of her distress.

"Isabella, calm down," I advised quietly. "Take slow breaths, my dear. Slow breaths," I emphasized.

She started to calm down, but I knew that only one person in the room could bring her true peace of mind.

After a glance from Jasper, Edward nodded, then approached and knelt beside her bed, taking her free hand in his.

"It would not be your fault, Isabella, if something happens today. You cannot blame yourself for their decisions," Edward spoke gently but firmly.

Isabella began calming almost immediately. Whether Edward's words or his touch (or a combination of the two) was responsible, I was thankful to see her relax into her pillows. I released her hand, unsurprised when Edward reached for it, grasping both of her fragile hands in his strong ones.

I also had the feeling that Jasper was assisting Isabella's calm through his gift. When I glanced at him quickly, his sly wink confirmed my suspicions.

But then Isabella's pulse quickened again, and her brows knit into a frown; I think all of us sensed her fear. "Can you tell me if...he...is here?" she stuttered in a low whisper to Edward.

Frowning, Edward glanced at me quickly as if warning me of Isabella's probable reaction to his response, then reluctantly nodded at her.

But Isabella surprised us yet again. She seemed to have fully expected Edward's affirmation of Jacob Black's presence; she stared unblinkingly back at Edward as if measuring his emotions.

Then Edward tensed even further, his eyes not leaving Isabella's.

"What are you hearing, Edward?" I asked calmly for Isabella's sake, but my shoulders tensed as I prepared myself for his report.

Edward tilted his head slightly, listening to the minds outside. His frown deepened, and I knew that he would not deliver good news.

Edward responded in a low, deceptively quiet voice, "They want to speak with us...the leader does, anyway. He's in his human form and is waiting in the clearing facing the front of the house...with," Edward stopped, his eyes moving back to Isabella, and I knew what was coming. "With _him,_" he added.

The varied curses emitted by my family, with the exception of Esme and myself, were colorful, to say the least, especially those of Emmett and Rosalie.

Rosalie was definitely concerned by this development as she asked, "Can they hear us?"

Edward answered with a shake of his head, "They aren't approaching the house too closely because our scent bothers them, so as long as we keep out voices low, they can only make out murmurs, but not words."

Alice nearly smiled, "Good."

Esme, however, looked puzzled. "What do you mean, 'our scent bothers them'?"

Edward responded, his voice low, "Our scent burns their noses...like concentrated bleach."

Pleased smiles circulated among our family; this information was good news for us.

I approached Jasper and asked my tactical son, "What approach do you recommend? We need to minimize the chances of violence-"

Edward interrupted me, worried. "That's going to be difficult. The majority of the Quileutes are spoiling for a fight; the leader is already struggling to keep control of the pack, especially..._him_."

We all noticed Isabella's reaction to Edward's words. His eyes were worried as they focused on her pale face, his thumbs massaging her hands soothingly.

Jasper took a step forward, capturing our attention. "Here's the plan. Esme needs to stay with Bella." Turning to Esme, his voice as compelling as any general in heading into battle, Jasper directed my wife, "If any one of them enters this room without one of us, protect Bella at all costs...even if it means finishing him."

Esme nodded resolutely, her golden eyes tiger-like as she slipped into her protective mode. Our family meant everything to my wife, and I knew that she would stop at nothing to defend us, especially Isabella, whom she loved as a daughter.

Leaning toward our beloved girl, Esme stated emphatically, "We won't let anything happen to you, sweetie." At Isabella's feeble smile, Esme leaned forward to kiss her forehead, a further assurance to the trembling girl of our love and protection.

Jasper efficiently directed the rest of us into position, with Edward, Jasper and myself selected to meet the Quileutes on the front porch. I was obviously the one to negotiate any kind of agreement, and Edward was present to listen to their minds and uncover any possible machinations the wolves may be plotting against us as Jasper measured their emotions.

Edward paused, indicating the wall of Isabella's room which had a window facing the porch and front yard and stating quietly, "I'm worried about this."

Jasper sighed, clearly concerned as well. "I don't like it either, but Bella can't really be moved from this room, can she?" he queried, glancing at me.

_No. Definitely not._ She was far too fragile, especially with her newly re-injured ribs which could result in puncturing one of her lungs. Moving her could be quite dangerous, indeed.

I spoke up firmly, "It's not a good idea...unless it is unavoidable." A quick glance at Esme was all I needed to alert her to the danger of moving Isabella, and she nodded in comprehension as Edward sighed, clearly worried.

Then Edward's eyes swiveled away from us as he listened. "They're getting restless, and it's becoming more and more difficult for the leader to keep them focused." He looked back at Isabella, reluctant to leave her.

But Jasper gave us no choice. "All right then, let's get moving. Stations, everyone," he ordered.

I turned to Isabella, pressing a kiss to her forehead, murmuring, "We'll take care of this, Isabella. Don't worry about a thing." Each of our family members except Rosalie made Isabella similar promises, but her expression, instead of clearing, became more despondent with each farewell.

For Isabella knew all too well how this confrontation could end: with her injury or death, or with the destruction of one or more of our family...the latter of which clearly upset her more than the thought of her own danger.

Isabella _was_ family now; there was simply no doubt about that fact. Only Rosalie seemed fight the inevitable, but that was typical for Rosalie; change made her very uncomfortable. And I understood that.

Edward leaned forward, Isabella's hands still clasped in his as he spoke passionately, "We will protect you, Isabella. We will!"

And we all knew at that point that Edward was completely and irrevocably in love with his Isabella.

But, as Emmett would say, "Their timing sucked, big time."

Isabella understood Edward's vow immediately; her large eyes swam with tears as she cupped his face in her hand, whispering just as passionately, "Be safe." Their eyes spoke volumes, and Isabella blushed adorably; however, I noticed Jasper backing away from her, toward the door, in an attempt to reign in his bloodlust.

Everyone but Edward followed Jasper to the doorway, stopping to watch the young couple lost in their own wordless conversation, speaking only with their eyes.

Finally, Jasper called Edward back to our task, and he and Isabella slowly came back to earth. He kissed her hand gallantly as she blushed shyly, then he clasped her hands one last time, agony clear on his face. Isabella's other hand continued to trace his face, but Edward reluctantly lowered her hands, placing them atop her quilt.

Their eyes spoke silent farewells via loving glances, then Edward left the room abruptly, tearing himself from her side and leading the rest of the family from the room and down the hallway, Esme remaining behind to comfort and protect Isabella.

Esme may not be our family's strongest fighter, but I knew how ferocious she could be when one of her own was threatened, and Isabella was exactly that: one of our own, a full-fledged member of the family. I almost smiled at the thought, but with the tension in the house so palpable, we had to focus now on protecting Isabella from the enemy.

Praying silently for the safety of our family, I walked beside Edward through the house toward the front door, with the rest of the family fanning out across the house and around its perimeter. I detected soft, worried growls as each of us realized that the house was completely and effectively surrounded.

"Ready?" I asked Edward, my voice low.

"Ready," he answered, his expression a mask of calm despite the emotions I knew must be roiling just below the surface. Edward, usually our mainstay, our dependable one in any confrontation, was a wild card this time. He had just met his mate, and the fact that the wolf pack was threatening his beloved would drive him to his limits.

So we didn't know how volatile Edward would be with Isabella's welfare so uncertain. I had seen the worried glances in his direction from Emmett and Jasper, plus Alice and Rosalie had appeared concerned as well.

I had to be wily...and I was forced to bank on Edward's mind being so filled with deep concern for Isabella that Jasper could answer me. Turning away from Edward, I caught Jasper's eye as he met us in the foyer and asked him a silent question as I glanced meaningfully toward Edward, then back at Jasper.

Jasper frowned, then murmured, "He's barely holding on; his fury and his guilt are so intertwined that I don't know if self-control is possible." He paused, then continued, "Think how we would react if our mates were endangered as Bella is now...then imagine them as fragile humans thrust into the middle of a war between powerful nonhuman beings."

While I was thankful that Edward showed no reaction indicating that he heard Jasper's evaluation, I cringed at the thought of Esme being in such a tenuous position and shuddered. But this was no hypothetical situation; Isabella's life was truly endangered, and we were completely surrounded by wolves who could do some damage to us, but any one of them could kill our human daughter with a single swipe of a paw.

Isabella had truly become our daughter.

_And she needed us now__, more than ever__._

Edward's voice brought me out of my thoughts. "Carlisle?" he asked, his voice low and seemingly calm, yet beneath his facade, he was nearly vibrating with anger. I had never seen Edward so furious, so determined.

Of course, I had never seen Edward in love before, either.

I placed a hand on his shoulder as I looked into his eyes. "We will keep her safe, Son," I assured him. "We love her, too."

Edward's eyes met mine, and his anguish was clear. "I can't live without her, Carlisle," he whispered brokenly.

And there was my other great fear: if somehow the wolves plundered our defenses and kidnapped or killed Isabella, we would be losing two family members this evening, not one. The bond between vampire mates was so strong that losing a mate demanded retaliation at best, and at worst, the remaining mate begged for (and often received) death at the hands of a merciful friend or coven member.

While I knew that Edward's bond with Isabella was that of a mate, I wasn't certain if Isabella, as a human, would be capable of returning such a deep bond.

These thoughts flitted through my mind in less than a second. I squeezed Edward's shoulder to comfort him as I whispered back, "I know."

Jasper cleared his voice quietly, our predetermined signal, and I opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch, taking a stance between my two sons. Flanked similarly by a wolf on either side of him, Sam stood at the far side of the meadow which our house overlooked. As one, the three of us Cullens stepped down the short flight of stairs and stood in the driveway, waiting to hear from Sam.

"Carlisle." Sam's greeting was quiet, considering the distance between was nearly a tenth of a mile. Like us, the wolves possessed abilities far above those of humans; however, they seemed to retain some of their enhanced senses while in their human form as well.

"Sam," I returned coolly, my voice wary.

Sam glanced at the large reddish wolf to his right, then leveled his eyes at me and spoke again, "We came here to retrieve Bella. She belongs with her family."

"The Blacks surrendered the right to refer to Isabella as 'family' when they abused her, physically and psychologically," I replied, reigning in my anger at their presumption.

The red wolf growled, and of course I recognized him immediately. He morphed back into his human form, quickly pulling on a pair of frayed denim shorts.

"Ha! Like Bella would ever be 'safe' with a bunch of bloodsuckers like you! I'm surprised that you all haven't drunk her down and crushed her body like a Coke can," Jacob Black sneered.

I felt Edward tense beside me, and I touched his arm as a reminder to remain calm. He reigned in his temper admirably, but I wasn't sure how long his control would last; Jacob was definitely trying to push his buttons.

"Yeah, she is pretty sweet, _my_ Bella," Jacob continued. "I mean, I haven't tasted her blood — that's just sickening! – but the rest of her tastes sooooo sweet. I would know." He grinned insolently, his hands digging into his pockets casually as if he expected no resistance from us, yet his eyes watched our every twitch.

"Jacob, that's enough," Sam said shortly.

Beneath my restraining hand, I felt Edward's fury roiling just beneath the surface. If Jacob spoke once more, I doubted that Edward would be able to control himself. He would attack...which seemed to be Jacob's goal. If he forced us into making the first move, then he could blame us for "starting" the fight.

Yet referring to his pleasure during the attack on Isabella was a low blow, and I heard deep, angry growls emanating from our family members; I barely suppressed my reaction.

Although he seemed unwilling, Jacob backed off under Sam's direct rebuke.

"We want an assurance that Bella is unhurt and is here willingly," Sam stated quietly.

This request was much more reasonable, and I had no problem with providing him with proof that Isabella was well; I understood Sam's need to be certain that he was doing the right thing in leaving her with his sworn enemies.

"I want to hear it from her own fucking mouth," Jacob growled, his eyes tight. "I just hope that you haven't brainwashed her." He rolled his eyes dramatically. "She'll believe fucking anything," he smirked.

Jasper had to physically restrain Edward at this point, and if I didn't have the weight of leadership on my shoulders, I may just have joined him...anything to wipe that smirk off Jacob Black's face.

I refused to let myself think of the long-term damage he had heaped upon a very young and innocent girl, or I would lose my own temper.

With every word, this confrontation strode toward violence rather than non-violence.

While Sam turned on Jacob and told him to shut his mouth in no uncertain terms, I calmed myself enough to communicate with my mate and Isabella. Perhaps the wolves would accept her words at face-value; Sam might, anyway. If only he could maintain control over the rest of the pack, Jacob especially...

"Esme?" I called, the calm of my voice masking my anger at Jacob Black. "Please ask Bella to answer Sam's question about her well-being," I asked, keeping my eyes on the Alpha and praying that Sam would be able to fully control his pack before someone, on one side or the other, lashed out violently.

After a pause while Esme explained Sam's request to Isabella, we heard Isabella's voice, a little hoarse and trembling, call out, "Sam? I'm fine, okay?"

Sam took a step forward, and in response, Edward, Jasper, and I also took a step toward the two men and one wolf.

"He's not being confrontational," Edward murmured, nodding his head to indicate Sam. "He's just relieved to hear her voice." Jasper nodded his agreement to Sam's response. "Jacob is also relieved, despite his words to the contrary."

"You sure, Bella?" Sam called, his voice echoing slightly through the meadow.

"Yes, I'm getting better. The Cullens are taking great care of me," she replied, her voice shaking with the effort of raising her voice. I heard Isabella lay back into her pillows, then Esme murmured comforting words to her as my wife held our precious daughter, consoling her.

"Why is her voice like that?" Jacob asked, and I noticed Jasper's interest. "He's truly concerned about her," he whispered to me.

_There was hope for this boy after all_, I thought.

But that hope was unfortunately short-lived.

Edward answered, his voice sarcastic. "She was nearly killed after all; you have to give her time to fully heal."

Jacob straightened up, his face hard. "That wasn't my fault!" he spat.

"Then whose fault was it?" Edward hissed.

"Hers. She wouldn't celebrate my birthday _properly_," Jacob smirked again as he emphasized his last word, and even I, opposed to violence generally, wanted to slap that smug grin off his face.

Jasper had to physically restrain Edward once again, and I turned to assist Jasper as Edward thrashed against us, calling out, "How the fuck can you blame her! You were the one who attacked her, the one who tried to rape her, the one who nearly killed her? How in the fuck is that Isabella's fault?"

Jacob continued to smirk as he watched Jasper and I struggle to hold Edward back. "I get it," he said slowly, his eyes glued to Edward as Jacob batted away Sam's restraining hand. "You like her, don't you, bloodsucker? You've let her get her claws into you? You poor fucker," he laughed with derisive amusement. "She'll do to you what she did to me; she'll make you fall in love with her, then she'll fucking leave you for some richer dude..."

Jasper whispered his opinion of Jacob's emotions, too low for the wolves to hear. "Jacob has been vacillating between the two extremes of love and hatred. He blamed Bella for rejecting him at the beach, and his hurt morphed into violence. And Jacob now sees our adoption of Isabella into our family as yet another rejection, yet another betrayal, at her hands. Now that he recognizes Edward's regard for her, he's angry, and..." Jasper cringed before continuing, "His thoughts are murderous."

Whether from Jacob's thoughts or Jasper's words, Edward hissed under his breath, and we again restrained him from attacking the young Quileute who looked on us with such superior loathing. "He despises what we are," Edward reported, his eyes snapping with anger. "And the fact that Isabella has chosen us over him is angering him, perhaps beyond his own sense of control. He is dangerous. Very dangerous."

Both Jasper's and Edward's assessments appeared frighteningly accurate as Jacob's voice hardened from real hurt to the deadly venom of injured pride as he continued, "You know, I loved her for years, but then, after she ran away from me that night, I realized that it so wasn't worth it. _She_ wasn't worth it. I could get a piece of ass anywhere I want on the Res, and I was being a stupid fucker trying to make it with such a sorry, damaged bitch as Bella Swan. She's nothing, man, nothing. Just a friendly warning, you know, one guy to another." Jacob grinned again, shaking his head in mock comradeship. "She's just not worth it," he repeated, clearly, a derisive smile plastered across his face.

That was it.

Jasper and I, shocked by Jacob Black's crass, callous words, loosened our grip on Edward for a millisecond, and that was all it took.

Edward was flying toward Jacob who saw the danger coming and morphed into his wolf form. Sam looked torn for a moment, but he decided to defend his pack, right or wrong.

It became an all-out battle at that point. Wolves appeared suddenly, racing toward us from the forest, and almost immediately I was battling two of the towering wolves, as was Jasper, while Edward fought Jacob and Sam. Vaguely I heard the echo of additional battles emanating from points behind us, so the wolves must have engaged all of our family.

A vampire could probably win a one-on-one battle with a shape-shifting wolf with a little time and patience, but a two-against-one fight was not easy to win. It took absolute concentration as I parried their charges, twisting out of their reach to avoid their sharp teeth. Hearing a cry of pain, I glanced over my shoulder to see that a third wolf had joined the fight against Edward, the wolf's teeth gaining purchase on Edward's shoulder while Jacob disappeared in the direction of the house.

_No, no, no, no..._I panicked at the possibility Jacob attacking Esme and Isabella.

But my two adversaries prevented me from following Jacob into the house. A horrendous crash came from the direction of Isabella's room, then came smaller crashes and additional sounds of fighting.

_Esme was protecting our human daughter. _

Whatever happened, I would be proud of Esme for the remainder of our existence, for the growls and yells and screams I was hearing from my various family members along with constant crashes and resounding felling of surrounding trees illustrated the serious danger we were all fighting.

The battle between my family and the wolf pack was getting uglier and uglier. Although we vampires couldn't tire, the wolves seemed absolutely determined to destroy each of us, and their strength seemed boundless.

A loud screeching sound came from in back of the house, following a hair-raising scream. Almost immediately came a loud crash from the front of the house, and Esme appeared, thrown backwards as if catapulted, landing flat on her back in the center of the front path.

That meant one thing.

_Isabella was alone with that monster. _

The most absolute fear empowered me, and I threw my entire strength into battling both of the wolves I was fighting. Grasping each one by the neck, I effectively knocked their heads together; they crumpled into a pile, unmoving. Then I was streaking across the meadow toward Esme.

"Are you all right?" I asked. Esme awkwardly got to her feet, and as she turned toward me, I saw why. Her right arm was missing.

Fury compounded my fear. "Jacob?" I asked, and she nodded, her expression panicked.

"Stay here!" I commanded, running toward the house.

I heard Isabella, nearly spitting in anger, hissing, "So do your worst, Jacob Black, you animal! At least your appearance finally matches the monster within!"

As I reached the porch, I saw that the wall separating Isabella's bedroom from the front porch was GONE. I jumped through the debris just as Jacob leaped toward Isabella who was standing shakily in the corner of what was left of her room, supporting herself against the wall, the other arm wrapped around her injured ribs.

But her triumphant smile at the wolf faded slightly as he leaped toward her.

I was a split-second behind Jacob, but I was still too late. His teeth sunk into her neck and shoulder, ripping her flesh as blood spurted from the her torn jugular. Isabella tried to scream but she couldn't; she breathed out a low gurgle as blood poured out her mouth, then her body, still gripped firmly in the wolf's massive jaws, went utterly limp...

_**A/N: Thank you so much for all of your kind reviews for the last couple of chapters; I soooo enjoyed reading them! I think I responded to all of the reviews for Chapter 38 at least. **_

_**I have family in town at the moment: my sister and her family are here for my brother's wedding Saturday, and my husband's sister and her family were here over the 4th of July. So I had only one day at home to write last week, then my new online fan fiction class started this Monday and I've been up working until 3-4:00 AM for the past several nights. **_

_**The next chapter will continue here as an outtake, either from Carlisle's or Edward's POV (still deciding). Hey, I'm willing to take votes for your preferred POV, LOL!**_

_**Because of the summer fan fiction class I'm teaching (which I am designing as we go), I won't be able to respond to many reviews for the next month. So I apologize in advance. If I have time, I will review, but between the class and my brother's wedding, I doubt I'll be able to respond much. But I do read (and save!) all of the reviews; I wouldn't be able to continue writing without your amazing support, my friends! **_

_**Thank you for reading my longest chapter yet (just topping 5K!), and have a wonderful week! I plan to post again next weekend, July 21-22. **_

_**Warmly,**_

_**Cassandra :) **_


	5. Interlude II: Jacob's POV

_**Interlude II – Jacob's POV**_

_**A/N: For my online fan fiction class this week, I assigned the class a flash fan fiction story. "Flash" fiction is a story between 300-1000 words. I thought I'd do the assignment, too; it's a great exercise for wordy writers like me to pare down to the essentials and make every word count. Obviously, I didn't include all these swear words in the version I posted for my students, LOL! So this version is a little over the 1000 word maximum for the assignment after I added in the swear words and a couple of phrases that I hated removing for my class version. I hope you enjoy this second "Interlude"; the first was Chapter 33 in Edward's POV (third person). **_

I couldn't believe that it had been three weeks. Three weeks without _her_. I couldn't believe that Sam just let those fucking bloodsuckers steal her away from me. He practically delivered her on a fucking platter to them.

Knowing them, she was probably sucked dry within minutes of them taking her away.

I had watched them leave with her in a fucking ambulance. Saving face, that's what they were doing.

All I had to do was prove it to Sam, and we could attack them, tear them limb from fucking limb and get our revenge.

No leech can take what's mine.

And she had been fucking mine.

I know things changed between us, but it wasn't my fault. I was born into a family of Protectors. When we were younger, I tried to be there for her, sneaking her library books and food, letting her out to watch TV with me when Billy was at his council meetings.

But control became a real challenge once I changed. Anger came too easily to the surface. Just the way she cringed away from me made it difficult not to slap her into a wall.

I knew I loved her, but she had to learn to quit provoking me.

For years I had ignored my father's drunken and not-so-drunken rants that Bella Swan had ruined our family. That it was her fucking fault that Mom was dead, that he was crippled. But he never blamed Sam's father, the drunk driver that night.

Now I knew why.

Sam was my brother. In his blood flowed the power to change, to protect. And we protect our own.

Even if it meant blaming her.

But Sam wasn't Alpha. I had fought changing because I saw what it was doing to her; I couldn't take on the responsibility for the tribe when I could barely control myself in my house, could barely keep myself from killing her in the raging anger that was part of this transformation.

But if Sam refused to confront those fucking leeches, I may take that power back.

Finally Sam had caved, had made a plan to make sure Bella Swan was dead before we attacked. We couldn't allow bloodsuckers to kill a human near our boundaries.

They had broken the treaty, and we were ready to prove it.

I stood there at Sam's side, waiting. My hands shook no matter how I tried to still them.

Then they came out, three of them, onto the porch, the leader in the middle.

But when the leader said I had given up all rights to her, I began to shake uncontrollably. I tried to respond back, claiming her, but they confused me; they talked about her as if she were still alive.

As I called her "my Bella," the red-headed one began to tremble, too. Did this fucking leech develop feelings for her?

I didn't think parasites had hearts, but I wouldn't miss the chance to battle with words until I was given permission to tear them apart.

Red-head tried to mask his feelings, but they were there in the tension of his jaw, in the burning of his dark eyes.

Sam asked for proof that she was alive. From Red-head's reactions, she might actually BE alive.

I wasn't expecting that.

I wanted vengeance, not a stand-off.

No, I wasn't leaving without taking down some parasites.

It only took a comment about her ridiculous trust, a trust I had lost three weeks ago on that beach, to make Red try to come at me. It fucking sucked that the other blonde held him back.

A fight was what I wanted.

Then I heard her voice...claiming that the leeches were taking "great care" of her.

At first I was worried; she sounded so fragile.

But Red was ready with his accusations. I didn't remember any of that night except what Sam and the others had told me. Hell, it was my birthday, and I was allowed to have some beers and get laid. Birthday presents, you know.

But she'd been a bitch about it. She's gotta learn that she can't do that. Sam and Emily had tried to convince me what I had done was wrong, but I was getting better at shutting Sam down.

If he kept being this fucking annoying, I'd take back my birthright.

I looked back at the three bloodsuckers on the porch and saw their resolution. And that's when I realized that she would never be mine again.

She was _THEIRS_.

After all I had done to protect her, she had become one of _THEM_.

Well, she would fucking pay.

I told them that she wasn't worth it, but I was trying to convince myself more than them. The mocking, knowing glances from Red made me wonder. They seemed to know what I was feeling and thinking.

How did they DO that?

So I kept provoking Red. It didn't take much to get him to lose it and come at me. I transformed, and the battle was on.

They were fast, those vamps. Especially Red.

When Collin joined in and nailed Red down by the shoulder, I had my chance.

I bounded toward the sound of a racing human heart.

I thrashed through a wall, only to confront a female vamp. She wasn't much of a fighter, but she was determined to protect her. It took me longer than I liked to get rid of the vamp.

Then Bella was on her feet. Despite her injuries from pissing me off last time, she started yelling at me.

Wouldn't the bitch ever learn?

All my past love for her had evaporated as soon as I realized that she was one of _them_.

I fucking hated her.

So I felt no remorse when I leaped toward her, teeth ready to rip open her jugular and see how well the leeches protected her when she was covered in blood...

I'd love to see one of _them_ finish her off. That would have been fucking classic.

But that wasn't the way it went down, after all...

_**I hope you enjoyed this peek into Jacob's mind. **_

_**And I'm still planning to post the second half of the wolf/vamp battle and Bella's "vamping" this weekend. I don't have too much grading for class, so I should be able to write and post by Sunday night. **_

_**The majority are asking for Edward's POV, but a vocal minority are pushing for Carlisle's POV; however, a few have mentioned the idea of splitting the chapter with half of the chapter from Edward and half from Carlisle. I'll try to split the chapter, but if it doesn't work, I'm leaning more toward Carlisle because he'll be more objective and will see more of what's going on because Edward will be focused on Bella only. **_

_**Thanks so much for your kind support, for all of your votes and reviews, and most of all, for your willingness to read my stories. Truly, it means the world to me. Between Wattpad and , my stories in all are approaching 1.5 million reads/hits. You all simply astound me! Thank you!**_

"_**See" you this weekend!**_

_**~Cassandra :) **_

_**xxxooo **_


	6. PbF Outtake Ch 37 & 38, CPOV & EPOV

_**Outtake Chapters 37 & 38 – Carlisle's and Edward's POV**_

**_A/N: I am not an EMT, nurse, or doctor; all medical knowledge comes from watching _ER, Grey's Anatomy, House MD, Chicago Hope, M*A*S*H, Emergency! (_golly, I'm dating myself!) and other medical TV dramas. So please forgive all medical mistakes—I am a homeschooling mum, not a medical professional. Thanks for understanding!_**

_**Half this chapter is written in Carlisle's POV, then we'll switch to Edward's POV. **_

_**Enjoy! :)**_

_**Carlisle's POV**_

As I raced toward Isabella, mindful only of rescuing her, the russet wolf scooped her torso into his mouth and, raising himself to his full height with Isabella's limp body dangling nearly six feet above the floor, Jacob shook his head violently. As his teeth sliced through her fragile skin and muscle, Isabella's blood spurted across the flowered wallpaper in a macabre arc. He obviously meant to kill her as he shook her yet again, this time striking her head against one of the wooden bed posts with a sickening thud that left me horror-struck.

_How could someone who claimed to love Isabella destroy her like this?_

With her delicate form clenched firmly in his sharp teeth, I could do nothing. If I tried to remove her, his fang-like canine teeth would rip through her further, and she would die immediately.

I was utterly unable to help her.

The Jacob-wolf turned to face me, Isabella's bloody body grasped in his teeth, her arms and legs hanging limply. His eyes were triumphant and expectant...as if he was hoping something would happen.

But I could pay little attention to his games; my eyes were trained on my daughter, my Isabella, and all I could do in that moment was pray, _Dear God, please! Help her! Protect her!_

The wolf then released Isabella, dropping her body six feet from his mouth to the floor; I heard a frightful _crack _as she crashed to the floor in a bloody heap at my feet.

Her spine must have snapped.

Slowed by my complete shock at his callousness, I moved forward, but Jacob was faster. Kicking her aside so that Isabella lay on her back, he placed a huge front paw on her and rolled his weight onto her chest, fracturing her ribs spectacularly as blood gushed from her mouth and from the long gash in her neck, the first injury he had inflicted.

Isabella's life was being crushed out of her. Her heart was racing erratically, and if the wolf continued compressing her slender body, she would die right before my eyes.

I readied myself to attack him, but it was not necessary. A huge body flew across the room and collided with the Jacob-wolf, both of them disappearing through the bloodied bedroom wall and into the marble-lined walls of Isabella's bathroom.

"Carlisle, get her!" Emmett's voice was urgent, and I scooped Isabella's broken, bloody body into my arms and raced to the center of the house, farthest from the fighting at the moment. As I laid her on the floor, I was immediately joined by Edward.

While I was glad to have his assistance given Edward's medical training, I also knew that focusing clearly enough to effectively treat Isabella would be difficult for my son.

The wide-open gash at her neck was the most pressing injury, but I had no tools to suture the gushing artery. Providentially, Esme appeared at my side at that point, my medical bag in hand. As I opened my bag to get my suturing implements, I directed Edward to apply pressure to Isabella's head injury.

I began suturing the torn artery in her neck, praying that what I was doing would be enough. Isabella would need a blood transfusion, but while I had stocked the house well with medical supplies during her recovery from Jacob's first attack, I only had a mere two units of O-Negative blood on hand for emergencies.

It would not be enough by a long shot.

"What else can I do?" begged Edward.

"The O-Neg," I barked, and he disappeared. I finished repairing her jugular, but I wasn't sure that it would hold.

As Edward reappeared with the two units of blood and the necessary tubing for a transfusion, I couldn't help admiring my son for a moment. While I could easily see sheer panic for Isabella's well-being in his wild eyes, he was also extraordinarily focused despite her blood being everywhere: all over me, all over him, all over her, all over the floor. Apologizing miserably, Esme had been forced to leave immediately after delivering my bag.

As I worked as quickly as possible on Isabella, I forced myself to ignore the sounds of battle coming from Isabella's bedroom. I could not think of the rest of my family now; I had to focus all my mind and skill on saving the young life before me.

Quickly I surveyed Isabella's limp form, noting her other injuries, especially her difficulty breathing.

Edward and I quickly agreed on the diagnosis of a pneumothorax, a lung perforation caused by one of her broken ribs. In addition, the damage to her internal organs alone was life-threatening, not to mention the injuries to her head and throat.

With a sinking feeling, I realized that we were most likely fighting a losing battle for her life.

Then I noticed the quiet. I heard nothing and no one besides Edward's and my movements and Isabella's irregular breathing and heartbeat.

The silence in and around the house was profound, but I did not fully notice my family filing into the living room until Rosalie's panicked whisper reached me.

"O god, Carlisle—all that blood!" she gasped.

I looked up briefly to see Emmett leaning on Jasper, Rosalie holding Emmett's right leg from the mid-thigh down. Alice cradled Esme's missing arm in both of hers.

I ordered Rosalie and Alice to get Emmett and Jasper out of the room; I didn't have time to defend Isabella from someone's bloodlust as her blood was simply everywhere.

Quietly I asked Jasper to see to mending both Esme's and Emmett's injuries as his experiences in healing injured vampires in the aftermath of the Southern vampire wars far outstripped my own. The two couples left quietly, their faces worried as Edward and I worked over a fading Isabella.

But Esme felt compelled to remain behind for a moment to check on Isabella's condition. As Edward and I tried to save her life, I asked Esme about Emmett's injuries. After answering, Esme sorrowfully excused herself from the room as well. As much as she adored Isabella and worried about her, the sheer volume of Isabella's blood was too much for her.

I glanced at Edward, but he seemed single-minded in his focus as he transfused the two units of blood into Isabella.

"Is there any hope?" he asked, panic obvious in his voice.

Then I informed him of her other injuries, minor in that they did not threaten her life at the moment: her broken spine and probable paralysis, a blessing right now as the crushed nerves were blocking much of her pain.

When Edward, shocked, replied, asking what else he could do, I could only advise him to do one thing.

_Pray._

I started surgery on her lungs and other organs, knowing that I had too little blood on hand to be successful but aware that she would die if I didn't attempt tp do something to repair the damage. Grateful that I didn't have to operate at the slow human speed necessary at the hospital with the many nurses, other surgeons, and anesthesiologist as witnesses, I mended her pneumothorax after quickly locating the perforation of her lung, then tried to address her other internal injuries.

Almost every major organ was damaged.

This was impossible.

As if agreeing with me, Isabella's heart rate, already irregular, started slowing profoundly.

"We're losing her!" I cried.

Edward began administering CPR as I attempted to stop the bleeding of her liver. But my scalpel and sutures, no matter how quick and accurate, could not repair her injuries speedily enough.

"Do something!" Edward begged between administering breaths into Isabella's blood-covered mouth. "Please, Carlisle! Please!" he pleaded, then whispered brokenly, "I love her. I can't live without her."

But I could do nothing but pray to the One who held her life in His hands.

Surprisingly, Edward joined me in prayer. "God, please, help us!" he cried as he continued breathing and pumping her battered and bruised heart for her.

In that moment, clarity came to me, and I knew it was the right thing to do, the best option. The only option, really. The peace flowing through me at this realization brought the assurance that this decision was His plan for Isabella's life...and for her death.

But it was not an action that I could decide on this time. The responsibility remained with the man who loved her eternally.

The decision must be made by Isabella's mate.

I stilled my hands for a moment and looked deeply into my son's black eyes as I informed him quietly, "You know what you need to do, Edward. You need to do it now!"

Edward continued administering CPR, his face terror-stricken, his dark eyes searching my face to make certain that I was serious. When he recognized my determination, he truly panicked. "Carlisle, I can't! You know I can't! I don't have your control! I'll kill her!"

But as thirsty as he was at the moment, Edward had not been remotely tempted to harm Isabella as he assisted me, despite all three of us being covered in her fragrant blood as we battled to save her life.

This had to be Edward's decision, Edward's action. After what happened with Rosalie, I would never save another unless the future mate demanded it, just as Rosalie had done for Emmett. Despite his self-doubts, I knew that Edward possessed the control to change her; meanwhile, I had work to do to keep enough blood flowing through her body to allow the transformation to be successful.

We were cutting it terribly close. If she lost much more blood, any attempt at changing Isabella would be in vain.

"I've got to stop this bleeding, Edward. You have to do it, Son. Now."

_**Edward's POV**_

As much as I knew Carlisle was right, I didn't want to do it.

I didn't want to take Isabella's life away from her.

Yet as Carlisle urged me a second time to change her, my mind cleared for a moment, each thought sharp and perfectly defined.

My palms were compressing Isabella's heart, forcing what little blood remained in her circulatory system through her fragile body. The second unit of blood had nearly transfused, but it was bleeding out of her faster than we could get it in. I recognized that Isabella was going into DIC; her blood was no longer clotting as it seeped from her nose, ears, mouth, plus all of her sutures and injuries.

And she had so many injuries.

My medical training told me the truth without stinting: Isabella's injuries were not survivable. With every minute that passed, we were losing her.

I hadn't seen what the dog had done to her; I had finally thrown the two wolves I had been fighting off me and ran toward Isabella's room, only to find Carlisle racing to the living room, a desperately-injured Isabella in his arms.

Despite her fragrant blood being absolutely everywhere, despite Isabella being my singer, somehow my need to help her, to save her life, trumped every temptation; I barely noticed that I was kneeling in a spreading pool of her blood, that my shirt was soaked with it, that my hands and arms were covered with it.

But all that remained in my mind was the phrase: _Save her! Save her! Save her! _The short prayer pounded my brain with every breath into her punctured lungs, with every compression of her weakened heart.

Objectively, I had to agree with Carlisle: there was only one way to save Isabella's life right now, and it meant changing her into what we all were.

_Immediately. _

The pros and cons flew through my mind, but within two seconds, I had made my decision.

I was keeping Isabella with me, no matter the consequences.

I could not fathom a world in which she did not exist.

And I was fairly certain that I had seen a similar depth of emotion in her dark chocolate eyes as well.

I just hoped I wasn't mistaken.

With a meaningful glance of acquiescence at Carlisle, I leaned over Isabella, sinking my teeth into the side of her throat opposite her sutured injury. Somehow I refrained from drinking the perfect blood of my singer, knowing that she could not afford to lose any more blood. With a swipe of my tongue, I sealed my venom and her blood within her as Carlisle took over administering CPR for me.

I lifted her limp wrists, slicing her fragile flesh with my teeth and injecting my venom deeply within her veins, again sealing the venom and blood within.

The insides of her elbows.

Her delicate ankles.

The backs of her knees.

Into every artery and vein I could reach, I bit, injected, sealed.

Carlisle continued pumping her heart and breathing for Isabella as I injected as much venom as I could into Isabella's dying body.

_But would it be enough? _

Would we be able to save her this way?

Or was she too far gone?

Once I had done all that I could, I leaned over her, kissing her forehead and whispering brokenly, "I'm so sorry, Isabella, so sorry. I love you. I love you so much. I'm sorry, my love..."

"I can feel some resistance," Carlisle stated as he remained at her side, continuing the CPR that was the only way to circulate the venom throughout her broken body.

I held her hand, one of the few parts of her body uninjured. The constant crunch of Carlisle's compressions against her splintered ribs, the quickly-sutured yet seeping surgical incisions, the weeping sutures across her forehead, the ever-spreading pool of blood that Isabella lay in and we knelt in, her beautiful face pale as death beneath the bruises-—I absorbed it all, the pain of her suffering nearly tearing me in two.

At least her eyes were closed; I couldn't have borne seeing those lovely, expressive brown eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling; it would have utterly broken me to see another proof of her impending death.

_ Isabella was dying. _

The only question was: _Would she live again?_

Every minute or two, Carlisle ceased compressions and waited to see if her heart began beating on its own, an occurrence that would herald the beginning of her transformation from human to vampire.

The sixth time he stopped, her heart continued weakly on its own, slowly gathering strength and speed each moment.

I nearly collapsed with relieved joy, and Carlisle very nearly did the same.

It has started.

In three days Isabella will awake with a new body, a new mind, and a silent heart.

And I prayed that her heart would indeed be mine.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Of course I was a complete basket-case during her change. Isabella did not scream as Esme, Rosalie, Emmett, and I had done throughout our changes; instead, she remained perfectly still as if dead.

Despite my family's reassurances, her too-calm condition frightened and worried me as I remained by her side, her hand in mine. Occasionally I let go of her to vent my severe anxiety by pacing like a madman, but the absence of her touch increased my fears; I soon reseated myself beside her once again, taking her delicate hand in both of mine.

Reluctantly I left her side only once during the three days of her transformation: when Esme, after Jasper had reattached her arm, and Alice, who had escaped the battle unscathed, bathed and dressed her. Even then I left only for Isabella's comfort and at Carlisle's, Alice's, and Esme's insistence as I was concerned that bathing her would increase her silent but agonizing pain that Jasper assured us she was experiencing.

I also had to use Jasper's gifts in persuading Alice to dress Isabella in the soft knits and cashmere Esme had chosen for her comfort rather than the fashionable blue silk cocktail dress and stilettos that Alice was insisting upon.

Finally, they allowed me back to see her once she was bathed and dressed, Alice reluctantly granting me permission to brush Isabella's now-lustrous hair.

"She is so lovely," Alice sighed happily.

"She has _always_ been lovely," I growled at her, extremely annoyed. Isabella had been stunning as a human; now as she transformed to an immortal, she was in the process of becoming beautiful beyond compare.

"Look at those auburn highlights in her hair," Alice pointed out, completely ignoring me.

"Yes, I see," I sighed, aggravated by my sister and impatient to be reunited with my loveliest one. "She's the most beautiful woman in the world...and she always has been," I asserted stubbornly as I continued brushing her hair with the utmost care, just thankful to be near her. While each heart beat took us closer to the end of her human life, I cherished each contraction of her dying heart.

But then, with her transformation complete and immortality before her, we would be together forever...if that is what Isabella wished.

I prayed that Isabella's wishes would parallel mine...that she would want to spend eternity with me as I did with her.

Hours later, Carlisle re-entered his study where we had relocated Isabella for her transformation after he had re-examined both Esme and Emmett, the only two vampires in our family who were injured in the battle.

With Carlisle's mind on Isabella, I asked him a question to redirect his thoughts to the others. "How is Emmett doing?"

Jacob had torn off Emmett's leg just as Rosalie entered what was left of Isabella's room.

Emmett's injury had angered Rosalie beyond belief, and Jacob had been no match for her ire.

I still couldn't believe that Rose had knocked Jacob-wolf onto his back, straddled him, and thrusting her hand between his ribs, ripped his heart from his chest.

I would always be thankful to Emmett for keeping Jacob occupied in battle while Carlisle and I started treatment of Isabella's many injuries. If my burly brother had even been thirty seconds later in appearing, Isabella could be dead right now, and we would be attending a funeral rather than eagerly awaiting a rebirth.

We obviously had repercussions to deal with regarding the Quileutes, including my changing Isabella to a vampire and Jacob's death at Rosalie's hands. Carlisle had left Isabella long enough once her change was well-established to speak tersely with Sam, allowing him to remove Jacob's body, which Esme had covered with a quilt, from what remained of Isabella's bedroom.

Carlisle's response regarding Emmett pulled me out of my recent memories, "He is healing nicely; it's taking a bit longer than I had hoped, but he should be as good as new shortly."

"And Esme is fine, Carlisle?" I inquired, more for his sake than mine.

"Yes, she's perfectly restored now." I was immensely thankful that our family had escaped with only two limbs removed, extremely painful but repairable injuries. Jasper had re-attached both limbs which Carlisle had just checked again.

I shook my head, remembering the ferocious battle we had all somehow survived...all except Isabella.

But she was in transition, becoming as virtually indestructible as I am.

That thought assured me.

Carlisle and I discussed different aspects of the battle as we waited for Isabella to awaken, recalling Jacob's nearly perfect execution of his plan, a plan that went awry for him at the end, but only after he had virtually destroyed Isabella's human life.

If Rosalie hadn't ripped his heart out (quite literally), I would have.

Jacob had bluffed Sam, using his influence with the other wolves and their natural imperative to kill all vampires, bypassing their leader and staging an attack that was at first supposed to be a rescue mission, but with Isabella's apparent rejection of Jacob, morphed into a vengeful attack on Jacob's part.

I was proud of Esme; her actions had saved Isabella as much as Emmett's, mine, and Carlisle's had. With a slightly smug set to her lovely smile that amused me, Esme was proud of herself as well. She had defended her child long enough to allow help to arrive, and in doing so, she had helped to save Isabella, too.

But, as usual over these last days, while Esme directed the repairs to Isabella's room and other damaged portions of the house, with nails being hammered into two-by-fours, drywall being raised and nailed, walls being painted, and windows being installed reverberating through the house, my thoughts naturally returned to Isabella.

"I wonder what her reaction will be," I mused. "Do you think she'll hate me?" I hoped not; I couldn't face her hatred. "Be angry?" That was quite likely; my Isabella possessed a bit of a temper, and I was worried. "I never had the chance to ask her what she wanted."

Carlisle patiently responded to my wondering questions, once again reassuring me, "I don't know. Isabella always surprises me."

I chuckled, slightly amused. "Indeed." But worry still wrinkled my brow.

Then I heard it.

A shift in her heart rate.

A definitely speeding, then a stuttering, of her dying heart.

"Carlisle?" I asked, panicking.

My father reassured me quietly. "It's almost over."

I breathed a sigh of relief before anxiety rushed over me once again.

_What would Isabella think of her new existence? Would she be ecstatic and adapt readily to being a Cullen in more than name only, or will she blame me, resent me, hate me, for not allowing her a human death and the chance of everlasting life in heaven?_

All I could do was what I have been doing since Isabella's heart started racing toward its permanent silence: _wait and pray_.

So I continued waiting and praying until her heart stopped, cherishing every last echo of her beautiful, lost humanity.

**_Okay, this is the final outtake as far as I know; with the next chapter, we'll be returning to the main story line of _Pinned but Fluttering_ from Bella's POV. _**

_**Thanks for your patience as I polished this chapter. Writing action is soooo NOT my forte, so it took me a great deal longer than I had planned to write this outtake, plus dealing with a crisis with my online class and writing two different POVs...**_

_**Did you like my dividing the outtake halfway between Carlisle and Edward? **_

_**Thank you so much for reading and reviewing; I love hearing from each and every one of you! :D**_

_**A few story recs (all WIPs):**_

"_**Black Ice" by ladylibre. A tense story of Rosalie's and Edward's early days as Carlisle and Esme hoped that R&E would become mates. Our dear ladylibre never disappoints!**_

"_**From This Day Forward" by hopesparkles. Jacob deserts Bella 24 hours before her wedding, and Bella's best friend Edward steps in as groom. **_

"_**No Ordinary Proposal" by twilover76. Bella makes a marriage of convenience with an older Edward who has been burned by love in the past. But their business arrangement quickly becomes something more.**_

"_**A Forbidden Love" by TwiLoverSue. Set in Regency England, Bella escapes her father's attacker and finds a job as a maid in Lord Edward's household. But once Edward sees her, he has much more than dusting in mind... (nearly complete)**_

_**See you all next weekend or early next week! I'm still prepping and teaching my fan fiction class, so I don't know if I'll have much time to write during the week. **_

_**Send a little love, please? I've had a very rough couple of days...**_

_**xxxooo,**_

_**Cassandra **_


	7. PbF Outtake Chapters 44 & 45, EPOV

**Outtake from Chapters 44 & 45 of **_**Pinned but Fluttering**_

**Edward's Point of View**

As Esme and Carlisle led the way back to the house so that we could greet Tanya and our extended family, I gazed down at Isabella and allowed all the love I felt for her to shine through my eyes. Carlisle's words of love and acceptance to my Isabella had warmed me, and the softness in her eyes entranced me.

As our glances met and melded, all thought of Esme, Carlisle, and the Denalis faded, and Isabella was the only one on my mind. My pride and love for her was boundless, eternal. My heart thrilled as our souls spoke the words of love that our lips did not need to.

For decades I had considered myself a monster, soulless and heartless. Only with Isabella's entrance into my lonely life did bitterness flee, and acceptance, followed speedily by an all-encompassing joy, took its place.

For how could I possibly think that my Isabella was without a heart or soul?

Despite all the horrors of her human life, her heart was open and expansive in its ability to love my family…and to love _me_.

As I gazed upon my beloved, I rejoiced at the new strength and joy that flowed from her crimson eyes into my very soul. For although she loved me, Isabella been unable to fully accept that I adored her just as completely in return.

Until now.

Exultant, I opened my arms to her, and Isabella flew to me, embracing me and…kissing me. Surprised by her passion, I couldn't move for a moment, but before thought caught up with action, my arms trapped her form against my chest and my lips returned her kiss with enthusiasm. Tentatively my tongue caressed her closed lips; when she parted them, I tasted her for the first time, our kiss slow and deep and passionate.

As I pulled her body completely flush with mine, we continued to kiss, our lips moving hungrily, our tongues twisting and twining deliciously. As my hands explored her back, she buried her delicate fingers in my hair; I stifled a growl of pleasure at the sensation as my eyes rolled back into my head in sheer ecstasy.

So deeply involved were we in our mutual passion, that neither of us noticed the vampire approaching us until she cleared her throat rudely.

I groaned internally; I knew that sound all too well. It was quite incredible that two very…_involved_…vampires neglected to hear Tanya walking up the gravel path, and she was not pleased by our, uh, inattention…to say the very least.

I must have paused for a moment, distracted by Tanya's annoyed and jealous thoughts, but as Bella's lips recaptured mine, Tanya's mind and presence was banished from my mind. Her impatient sighs made no impact upon either Isabella or myself as we continued to kiss…exactly like the teenagers we were.

"Do we need a garden hose to separate you two?" Tanya growled, obviously angered by our display.

Stifling my sigh of annoyance, I broke our kiss at long last. But I refused to even glance at Tanya; my eyes were fixed on the beautiful woman in my arms, the woman who was everything to me.

Once again, Tanya's presence was forgotten as I gently brushed a strand of mahogany hair from Isabella's lovely face. But beneath my hands I felt Isabella tense as she became more aware of Tanya's frustration and anger.

I tried to calm Isabella with the warmth of my gaze alone, but I could see the struggle in her eyes; she was ready to turn on Tanya and take her out. _Now._

And I knew that Isabella could and probably would do just that.

What I wouldn't give to watch that match…but it wouldn't be polite to allow Isabella to remove Tanya's head for her. After all, Tanya was a guest…and was considered to be extended family, after all. Damn it.

Never taking my eyes off of Isabella and placing my hands gently on Isabella's arms to calm her, I spoke to our rude guest with meager restraint, "Tanya, we would greatly appreciate a little privacy, please. We'll return to the house shortly."

There was no surprise on Isabella's face as I addressed Tanya; she had obviously known the identity of the rude vampire interrupting our private moment. My quiet words and touch seemed to quiet my lovely one as we smiled in shared amusement at the welcome sound of Tanya's designer heels grinding into the gravel pathway all the way back to the house.

_So much for that pair of Jimmy Choos, _sighed Alice mentally from within the house. I smirked for a moment before returning to a serious mood; I had something important to say to my lovely one.

Leaning forward until our foreheads touched, I whispered, "I am so proud of you, Isabella. Your control is incredible, love. If I wanted to tear Tanya's head off myself, I can only imagine what you were considering…"

Isabella stopped my words with a kiss - a kiss so sweet and evocative that a groan escaped my throat. Despite the coolness of her body, her form felt like fire against mine; reluctantly I pulled away before I seriously considered taking her right here in the gazebo…guests or no guests.

After I explained to Isabella to reason for my stopping, she agreed (reluctantly) to return to the house with me. Wrapping my arm around her shoulder, I prayed that my body would calm down before we reached the house - and the sharp eyes of Tanya who would miss nothing…especially my currently aroused state.

But as we approached the back deck, Isabella stiffened, and my concern increased when she dropped her arm from around me and put some distance between us. For the millionth time, I wondered what my beautiful girl was thinking; I could tell from her shuttered expression that it wasn't anything good. And I definitely did not like her pulling away from me when I yearned to be close to her always.

Stopping on the back deck, I turned around to face my Isabella, trying to swallow down my concern when she once again averted her eyes. "Are you all right?" I inquired softly, grasping her chin in my hand as I tried to read the emotions flitting across her beautiful face.

But she avoided my examination, shrugging and making a noncommittal reply. My worry was quickly escalating into fear at this point.

Quietly I opened the door for her, leading the way into the living room where our "cousins" were chatting with our family. Since Isabella seemed uneasy among so many strange vampires, I took the initiative and, capturing her hand in mine, gave it a gentle squeeze.

A sigh of relief escaped me as she squeezed my hand in return and relaxed a little while she endured Carlisle's rather enthusiastic introductions. I smiled to myself at our father's love for and pride in his newest daughter.

However, I was immediately troubled by Eleazar's inordinate interest in Isabella. He was gifted in evaluating the potential talents in humans and newborn vampires especially; he was also adept at training newborns in developing and strengthening their talents.

Although I knew intellectually that Eleazar was an invaluable resource in assessing Isabella's gift and in training her to control it, emotionally I felt more than a little trepidation at his presence, especially since his thoughts remained so keenly focused on my mate.

The obvious power of Isabella's shield both intrigued him and concerned him, and I could tell that his scrutiny was making her uncomfortable. In fact, the way that Eleazar's thoughts kept returning to how attractive the Romanians would find Isabella's gift, raw though it was, began to truly worry me.

It didn't help that Eleazar, who had spent several decades with Stefan and Vladimir in Romania helping them ferret out potential talents from their human "meals" before they became dinner, considered Isabella to be, without a doubt, the most powerful shield he had come across in his seven hundred years.

I sighed quietly, trying to hide my escalating fear over these revelations as I followed Eleazar's thoughts. I could tell from Isabella's quick glances at Eleazar that his continued scrutiny was making her both uncomfortable and suspicious. I moved closer to her, wrapping my arm around her slender waist and tracing small, comforting circles on the curve of her hip.

Isabella seemed unaware of my barely-there caresses, but she relaxed slightly against me as I nuzzled her hair gently, breathing in her strawberry-tinted scent that symbolized home to me.

_Wherever she was, there was my home. _That thought rapidly became my lifeline when fear raised its ugly head.

When we approached the three sisters, however, Isabella braced herself as if preparing for battle. I sighed, hating to see her upset and regretting how my past was affecting our present happiness.

Irina's rudeness surprised me; she was suspicious of Isabella immediately, and deliberately ignored my narrowed eyes as Carlisle introduced her to Isabella. Protectively I put my arm around my love's shoulders and pulled her into my side, again nuzzling the side of her lovely face.

Irina's thoughts when she saw my affection for Isabella were…_unspeakable_. Her thoughts exploded in anger toward me and hatred toward Isabella, viewing her as an interloper who was stealing me away from Tanya.

I rolled my eyes at Irina's dramatic thoughts…yet Tanya's thoughts were traveling along the identical wavelength. Tanya's attitude toward me has always been possessive and proprietary, but I had turned away first her subtle, then her obvious advances without fail over the past fifty years.

_One would think the woman would take a hint._

With every offer, I had been polite but firm. One would think that Tanya would get the message, but each time I refused her advances, she only dug in more deeply, plotting and planning her next method of attack, many of which had the opposite effect than she had intended, causing a deep disgust within me at her blatant sexual innuendo.

Over the years, I had felt increasingly defiled and revolted by Tanya's mental skirmishes and had become colder toward her as a result. In fact, I had barely spoken a dozen words to her over the past decade.

However, Tanya was not accustomed to rejection, and her sharp eyes missed nothing regarding the depth of my relationship with Isabella. Thus, Tanya's present thoughts toward Isabella were filled with pure jealousy.

A growl rumbled from my chest at Irina's and Tanya's thoughts. They were blaming Isabella for "enchanting" and "bewitching" me with her talent — as if a shield could do anything remotely along those lines.

They also were envious of her powerful gift; Eleazar remained fascinated by the possibilities of her latent talent, and the sisters had noted his attentive manner toward her. They had also recognized Emmett's protectiveness and Jasper's clear respect for Isabella as well as Carlisle's fatherly devotion.

When the sisters topped their theories off with my obvious "infatuation" with her, they were positive that Isabella was some sort of siren, beckoning vampire males to their destruction.

And they seethed with envy and hatred toward my beloved one.

I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of their assumptions, but the malice they bore the woman I adored was not humorous in the least. I wished that Alice could see if they would attempt to do real harm to Isabella, but my sister's precognition was unfortunately blocked whenever Isabella was involved.

Fortunately, Kate did not share her sisters' envy and malice toward Isabella; instead, I noted an admiration for my mate in Kate's mind which relaxed me slightly. As I shot Eleazar a warning glance as he continued in his dogged attentions to my Isabella, Kate rolled her eyes at me; I returned her humor with a wink, and Isabella, seeing our exchange, smiled for the first time since she had left Carmen's arms.

Unfortunately, Carlisle introduced Tanya next, and her coldness toward and obvious dislike of Isabella was revolting. I tried to carry off the awkward situation with an impression of calm, smiling at Tanya while swallowing down my fury at her rudeness and malicious thoughts toward Isabella.

Tanya and Isabella were exchanging glares of barely-concealed antipathy, and if I were a vain person, I would definitely be flattered by the non-verbal tug-o-war going on between the two females.

I doubt that Isabella noticed my pulling her even closer to me and the warm smiles that I bestowed upon her in the hope that I could pull her out of her strange competition with Tanya.

_Didn't my Isabella realize that she owned me - body, heart, and soul? _

Kate winked slyly at me, making a pointed comment about all of the Cullens being paired up at last. I laughed internally, but the situation was too fraught with tension for me to reveal my amusement at Kate's blatant barb.

After trying to warn Kate from angering Tanya, Eleazar reluctantly stepped in to Tanya's place as head of the coven, making the expected pleasantries as Tanya was neglecting her usual role, but his thoughts continued to swirl around Isabella and her gift…and her value to the Romanians.

In our world, the two Romanians, Stefan and Vladimir, ruled the vampire world with fists of iron and had done so for over two thousand years. Fortunately, they were usually fair, but they were intolerant of the neglect of our one responsibility as vampires: keeping our secret at all costs.

But Eleazar was right: if the power of our family became common knowledge among nomadic covens, those who were bored and always on the lookout for a challenge would indeed search us out to try their hand at defeating us, just for the thrill.

And the stress of such battles on a regular basis would ruin the peace we sought as well as destroy our usual human masquerade. Unable to continue to live among humans, we would be forced to relocate to an extremely remote area in order to protect as many humans as possible from the non-"vegetarian" vampires who would seek us out to do battle.

The situation would be a nightmare for all of us.

But we had no choice at the time we changed Isabella. We could not let her die — and she had so very nearly done so despite our best efforts.

Eleazar began to voice his concerns, warning us of the repercussions of changing Isabella. I cringed as Isabella, already uncomfortable due to Tanya and Irina's cool reception and Eleazar's continued attentions, stiffened in my arms. Stress marred her lovely face as she realized the implications of Eleazar's statements.

One glance at her momentarily unguarded expression revealed her thoughts and feelings: Isabella was not only afraid for us, but she also was feeling a tremendous guilt for supposedly putting out family in danger.

Attempting to maintain a sense of calm, I broke the silence following Eleazar's announcement, explaining how close Isabella had come to death and that changing her was not an option, but a necessity. Carlisle stepped in and quietly but firmly backed me up, describing the situation.

But then Eleazar explained the issue of the nomads to our family, and although the thought of this particular danger had never occurred to me before today, apparently it was not a new thought to either Jasper or Emmett.

Unlike the surprised reactions of our female family members and even Carlisle, Jasper's and Emmett's thoughts showed no shock at Eleazar's concerns; the two of them had even discussed it privately on a hunt last week, and I had been too involved with Isabella to note their subterfuge.

Carlisle's thoughts upon this point were resigned; he felt no guilt in changing Isabella and would meet any repercussions of our decision as were necessary.

As Isabella asked about the Romanians and Eleazar explained their position in our world, I noted her brow furrowing with worry and felt the beginnings of fear creep into my heart.

Of course, Isabella would think that this danger was her fault.

And she would want to leave to protect us.

Then and there, I resolved that I would never allow her to leave … not unless she took me with her.

As Isabella sought comfort in resting her forehead against my silent heart, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close and breathing in her familiar and lovely scent…the scent of "home" wherever we may end up in the future.

Only Tanya's frantic hissing at Carlisle pulled me out of my quiet meditation as I lost myself in the scent and the touch of the woman I adored.

Not bothering to attempt even a façade of civility, Tanya addressed Carlisle in scathing tones. "You have done a foolish and dangerous thing, Carlisle. And because of the ties between our families, you are putting us in danger as well as yourselves. We will be honor-bound to defend your family now as covens flock here to test their mettle against your family. You should have thought about the repercussions of your actions before making such a foolhardy decision." Yet while she berated Carlisle, her eyes were on me, carefully judging my reactions to her criticism.

Of course Tanya would assume that Carlisle changed Isabella; after all, he had changed me, Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett.

I spoke up, informing Tanya that I had been the one to change Isabella and for her to direct her criticism to me rather than to my father.

Tanya's shock would have been comical if the situation were not so tense. Her thoughts were convoluted, a mixture of surprise, jealousy, anger, frustration, and sadness.

The sadness surprised me. For decades, I had looked on Tanya's pursuit of me as merely a pastime for her, something to ward off the inevitable boredom that often accompanied this eternal life. Until this moment, she had guarded her mind from me as well as her heart.

Apparently Tanya really cared for me.

And still did.

I felt sympathy for her plight, yet I knew very well that I had given her absolutely no encouragement. Tanya was watching me carefully, and the momentary pity I felt for her must have shown in my expression. Her immediate reaction was anger toward me and hatred for Isabella. My eyes narrowed at Tanya in warning, but she merely smirked and turned her mind to Lady Gaga lyrics to mask her true thoughts.

Quickly I glanced at Alice, praying that somehow she would see something – _anything_ of Tanya's possible plans.

Ignorant of the battle lines being silently drawn, Eleazar and Carlisle continued to discuss options regarding the nomads and the Romanians until Tanya interrupted them with the rude suggestion that Isabella leave. It didn't help that her words were accompanied by a flirty grin toward me designed to anger Isabella. Almost everyone in the room, including myself, rolled our eyes at Tanya's flair for the dramatic.

But Isabella only lowered her eyes to the floor, refusing to look at me — or at any of us, as a matter of fact. Her eyes remained averted and her posture defensive even while Carlisle deliberately and clearly outlined Isabella's permanent place in our family and firmly requested Tanya to treat Isabella as such.

Tanya glared at Carlisle, and then she took her revenge. Grinning maliciously, she thought, _You know, Edward, it could be quite amusing to inform your innocent Isabella of our long and passionate history together. I could tell her how you have pursued me for decades, despite my constant refusals. Perhaps it is mere sexual frustration that has created this supposed "bond" between you and this … newborn. Ugh. She's worthless, Edward, really. Think of how I can make you happy. With my centuries of experience, I can guarantee that you would be begging for more … continually. Hmmm, "confessing" everything to Isabella will be sooooo entertaining, don't you—_

I tried to move slowly enough to avoid alarming Isabella as I pressed a kiss atop her head before releasing Isabella; I then flashed forward to grab Tanya's wrist in a grip that would be painful even to a vampire.

"Time for a chat," I informed my family in a voice barely concealing my fury at Tanya's proposed machinations.

Emmett cheered me, but the rest of the family appeared worried as I dragged Tanya none-too-gently out to the backyard.

I was so furious that I could not concentrate on the conversation in the house as I spun Tanya around to face me, dropping her wrist and taking a step back to try to gather the scattered forces of my self-control before I damaged her.

Permanently.

Of course, causing permanent damage didn't seem so terrible right now.

Tanya smiled seductively, well-satisfied that she had managed to get me alone…and especially away from Isabella.

With fists clenched at my sides as I shook with barely-controlled anger, I towered over Tanya, noting with grim satisfaction the change across her face as her grin faded and fear took its place.

Pointing my index finger into her face to emphasize my words, my voice trembled with suppressed rage as I addressed her. "You are not to tell such abysmal lies to Isabella, Tanya, or, so help me, I will quite happily tear you limb from limb, set fire to your dismembered pieces, and watch you burn with glee, rejoicing that you will never interfere in my existence ever again. Am I being clear, Tanya?"

Through her frightened thoughts, I watched myself, my formerly golden eyes black with rage as I trembled with anger.

Tanya was staring at me as if I were an alien, her eyes huge and her mouth hanging open in utter disbelief as she cringed away from my fury.

For the first time in our ninety-year acquaintance, she was truly afraid of me.

_Good._

However, she seemed frightened into immobility, and thus was unable to reply to my questions, and I definitely wanted her to respond — after all, these were not rhetorical questions I was asking. I wanted Tanya's assurance that she would leave both of us alone.

Grabbing her shoulders roughly, I shook her for emphasis – not too hard, but enough to demonstrate how serious I was taking this conversation. "Am I being clear?" I repeated, my voice a low growl.

Tanya's expression of extreme shock remained frozen, but she managed to nod mutely. I released her, wiping my hands on my jeans as if I had touched something unclean.

"Good. Glad that's cleared up," I said derisively, folding my arms over my chest and turning my back on Tanya. As I watched the white rapids of the river, I tried to calm myself enough to re-enter the house. I needed Isabella in my arms.

_Now. _

_ Badly. _

But it was going to take some time to reign in my temper.

A long silence passed while Tanya tried to regain the ability to speak and I tried to conquer my raging emotions. I doubted that I would ever forgive Tanya for her words and thoughts tonight regarding Isabella.

"B-b-but Edward-" Tanya started, and I could tell that she was not finished; instead, she was going to attempt another tack. She was going to start whining and pouting; after all, this approach had worked without fail in her encounters with human males who couldn't resist her supposedly gorgeous lips. Tanya had long considered her pout the "ace-up-her-sleeve."

Too bad her pout only disgusted me, and whining was simply abhorrent in anyone over the age of two. I was beyond thankful that Isabella never pouted or whined.

"Don't go there," I growled in warning, not wanting to deal with the abhorrent sights and sounds of Tanya in full-temper-tantrum mode.

Tanya's annoyance trumped her fear of me after I had just now wounded her pride; she was definitely getting angry. _Great._ In her more than one thousand years on this earth, she had never been rejected by a man … until she met me, that is. So, embarrassed, upset, and angry, she made a poor decision and leveled her sights on the wrong target.

"I don't know what you see in that mousy little thing," Tanya hissed. And she was only getting started. But criticizing my beloved was only going to piss me off even more than I already was.

"Stop right there," I ground out between my clenched jaws as I grabbed her arm and spun her around to face me. "You will not say _one_ derogatory thing about my Isabella. Unlike you, _cousin_," I sneered, "she's beautiful inside and out. She is innocent and pure, kind and unselfish, highly intelligent and extremely talented, always doing wonderful things for others and rarely thinking of herself. She is exquisite in every way.

"So, listen carefully, Tanya, as I will only say this once more: you and I have _never_ been in a romantic relationship. I have never felt more for you than the bond of extended family—of cousins … if that. And I have made my lack of romantic feeling toward you abundantly clear over the decades.

"Therefore, whatever you imagined was between us was just that: _imagined_. I adore Isabella—and _only_ Isabella. She is my singer, my soulmate, my best friend, and the love of my existence.

"I love Isabella with every fiber of my being, and my admiration, respect, adoration, and worship of her will never fade one iota should we be fortunate enough to spend the next thousand years together."

My harangue had started in with my voice raised, a rare occurrence, but I quieter and more menacing as I continued to lay out the facts to a deluded Tanya. After I finished, I paused for a few seconds to make sure that my words had sunk in.

"Do you understand me, Tanya?" I challenged softly, leaning over her in a threatening manner to make my point.

Tanya did not answer, turning on her heel and fleeing to the relative safety of the house. I think I made my point.

In her rush to hide her fear and embarrassment as we both knew too well that everyone in the house had heard our exchange, Tanya wrenched off the back door, flinging it across the back lawn in frustration.

Deciding to remain outside to gather my thoughts and calm my emotions, I surveyed the thoughts of my family and cousins as Tanya stomped into the house, demanding that the members of her family join her at once in leaving our family.

Fortunately, Tanya missed the victory dance Emmett was performing behind her back in response to her announcement.

All right, I actually cracked a smile at his antics, and while part of me wanted to join him, I didn't want to embarrass Tanya further. Although I had decimated her emotionally tonight, I couldn't find myself regretting a single word or action.

And Tanya wasn't the only one embarrassed this evening; I had to admit that I was ashamed of Tanya's proprietary behavior toward me and hoped that Isabella, whom I assumed had heard my impassioned words to Tanya regarding my deep and abiding love for her, would understand that I had never encouraged Tanya in the least.

_But would she understand? _

Isabella was so new to this life, and vampires, especially young ones, can be incredibly jealous and possessive.

Would she even speak to me when I returned to the house?

Fear gripped me. I knew all too well that I did not deserve Isabella's love, and I was afraid that tonight's events may bring my happiness crashing down around my ears.

Taking several deep breaths, I forced myself to re-enter the house, feeling slightly abashed at the way I had lost my temper with Tanya. Slowly I entered the room, afraid to even look at Isabella and see the judgment and/or anger I so richly deserved on her lovely face.

_Judgment and anger I roundly deserved. _

I didn't dare reach for Isabella. Although I felt bereft without her touch, my emotions remained volatile after my confrontation with Tanya, and I wasn't certain I could retain thin veil of normalcy with her.

As long as I avoided Isabella's eyes, I managed to keep my voice cool and steady as I explained Tanya's exit to the roomful of vampires as succinctly and unemotionally as possible.

Despite my strong desire to embrace Isabella or at least look her, I had to get myself under better control. Thanks to Tanya, I was a roiling mass of anger and frustration; I couldn't let go of the fear that Isabella would reject me as a result of Tanya's dramatic performance tonight.

Before I had the opportunity to settle my emotions, Irina was in my face, accusing me of leading Tanya on. Irina's angry and unjustified words forced my emotions into a maelstrom of defensiveness and fury.

Shocked at her baseless charges and barely stopping myself from throttling Irina, who was nearly as deluded as Tanya, I refused to meet anyone's inquiring eyes, especially Isabella's, as I fought for control of my anger.

I was so unworthy of my angel that it was laughable.

Irina was now berating Carlisle, but, wrapped in a hell of my own making, I heard none of her words.

In the back of my mind I became aware that Esme was embracing my Isabella, and I was thankful that someone had looked to her comfort as I was unworthy to even glance in her direction.

Vaguely I heard Isabella's quiet voice excusing herself, and a mere moment later my mind was inundated by furious thoughts from my entire family.

It took me a moment to realize that their anger was not directed at Tanya or Irina…but at _me_.

I sighed internally, preparing myself to face the proverbial music.

But when I looked up into the furious faces surrounding me, I realized a truth that floored me.

Isabella was not among them.

_ No._

_ No, she couldn't be…_

_ But she was._

_ Somehow, someway, Isabella was gone._

My mind wasn't working right. I should be hearing the angry voices in my head berating me for my stupidity as I had mere seconds ago.

But all was silent now, every mind around me closed and wordless. All was darkness. It was as if all of my senses were blocked at the same time: I could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing…

Nothing except an agony so overwhelming that it robbed me of strength and thought.

I was unaware of my knees buckling beneath me as I collapsed into a blissful and welcome darkness where the pain could not follow.

_** A/N: Sorry this outtake is late, but it is nearly twice as long as my usual chapters. I had a huge deadline for a work project on Monday, so I had to work all last weekend getting it done.**_

_** Also, some of you have asked about the Volturi and Romanians. In my "take" on the romance between Edward and Bella, there is no Volturi; they're human and they're the good guys: Mrs. Jane is Bella's social worker while Aro was the judge who removed Bella from the Blacks' home, and Gianna was his secretary. So I substituted the Romanians from **_**Breaking Dawn**_** to be the police of the vampire world in this story. **_

_** This story is NOT canon—it's twisted and twirled, with both vampires and wolves being more intense and volatile than in the original books, along with a very damaged Bella. Some of the comments I received mentioned Bella being weak in running away. On the contrary, Bella has never had the strength to run away before—she lacked both the physical and the emotional wherewithal to make and act on such a decision before. After being abused for six years, Bella's choice to run away is self-protective, but instead of rolling into a ball as she has in the past when decimated by the actions of others, she removes herself from the situation. It's a move of strength, not weakness, for Bella to run away at this point; Edward is the weak one, collapsing into himself. (Yes, vampires don't faint; Edward is mentally and emotionally breaking down in the only way he can which involves shutting himself off from all mental stimuli.)**_

_** And we see now that Edward wasn't being a "jerk" by letting Bella go; he was so deep into his own personal hell of fear to see Bella leave. Just as Bella didn't listen to Edward's impassioned defense of Bella to Tanya, Edward missed Bella's fear of destroying this family she loves. She reacts too quickly and totally wrongly, but Bella reacts and takes action, which I see as growth for her. **_

_** I'm also sorry that I couldn't respond to all of the wonderful reviews this past week; however, I read and saved each one in my "inspiration file." Thank you for reading and reviewing; your passion for this story is remarkable! I love you all! **_

_** I hope to post again by Monday, but I'll have to see if I have time. I hope to much more quickly this next time, anyway.**_

_** And is anyone doing NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month—writing 50,000 words during the month of November) next month? I'm debating; I'll be quite busy, but I'll also be able to complete this story if I commit to doing NaNoWriMo. **_

_**Much love to you all,**_

_**Cassandra **___

_**xxxooo **_


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